The Darkest Skies
by Lady Amiee
Summary: Waking up, far away from home, I find myself in a whole new word, a war-torn world where Elves and Orcs walk the plane and Dragons rule the sky. I have to fight, fight to survive and fight to get home. But what can one woman do against the tides of war and time? Written for NaNoWriMo. Rated K for now, but it may go up. Swearing and blood, with some smut.
1. Waking Up

_Damn it, I left the window open again, and it's bloody freezing_, I thought, refusing to open my eyes, wanting nothing more than to ignore the icy breeze from my window and go back to sleep. My skin prickled again, a barb to my brain, like my body poking me for attention. _No . . . just no. I am not getting up at the crack of frickin' dawn, not even for the cold_. I tried to roll over, seeking my covers, but I couldn't move, my hands pinned behind my back.

_Dafuq?_

One eyelid cracked open, peering sleepily, unfocused and struggling to take in the sight in front of me. I blinked, the wooden slats coming into focus. Thinking I'd fallen asleep on the floor, I sat up, cursing myself for drinking too much the night before, as well as my friends for tying me up again. "Fuckers," I muttered, trying to shake my hair from my eyes so I could see. I shivered again, feeling cold drops hitting my skin. _Damn, if it rained and I left the window open, the carpet is gonna be soaked._

"Hey, you're finally awake."

_Please, for the love of all that's holy, tell me I didn't sleep with a random dude_! I looked up, the world coming into focus as I noticed I was moving, tied to some kind of cart and surrounded by . . . men. _Hairy men_. I blinked at the faces looking at me, my eyes flicking from one to the other. In front of me, a blond guy that well, without other words was built like a brick shit house. Beside him, another dude, that one the total opposite, more like a rat to blondies pitbull. I blinked again, turning to face the last guy, instantly jealous of the furrs wrapped around him, if not so envious of the gag.

"Who the hell are you guys? I swear to Jesus, if this is Bronzey's idea of a damn joke, I'm going to kill her," I snapped, struggling against the bonds on my wrists. "Someone get this the hell off me!" I began to panic when they made no move to help me, wondering if I'd been kidnapped by lunatics. I reined in the panic attack building in my chest, fighting the loss of breath as I counted in my head. Once I was calm enough to not pass out, I looked around,

Around me, I could see miles of snow-tipped trees and mountains in the distance. Rocks and mud coated the road we trundled down, seeming to be the only one around. Horses snorted, dragging the cart through the clod, their hooves kicking up filth as the driver tapped the with his crop. Four or five oddly dressed guard-type people rode horses around us, their postures stiff and unbending as snow fell onto their faces. "Okay, enough games, where the hell am I?"

The blond who had spoken to me first leaned forward, his bound hands hanging between his legs. I absently noticed he was dressed in some weird clothes, but shook it off. _Probably cosplay as some knight or something. Did I get picked up by someone's stag night by accident?_ He hushed the growls I hadn't realized I'd been making.

"You're in Skyrim, Lass," he told me softly, cocking his head to the side. "But you don't look like any Nord, Imperial or Elf I've ever seen." He studied me intently, his blue eyes piercing me. "What's your name?" His accent took a little understanding, the rolling syllables and growling tone confusing, but I think I got the gist of what he was asking.

"Amiee," I responded, before thinking that I should probably not have given away my name. I swallowed, glancing down only to realize I wasn't in my pajamas. "Why the hell am I nearly fucking naked? What kind of sick joke is this?" I asked, horrified. The clothing I wore was both threadbare and pathetic, dull brown and green as well as plastered in mud. I shifted, trying to make them cover me more.

The male beside me grunted, shifting closer and raised his tied arms up as if to invite me to snuggle. "Uh, no." The words weren't very strong, considering my teeth chattered and my body almost vibrated with shivers. Whatever they'd dressed me in had more holes than swiss cheese and I swear to god, the wind had a malicious streak, finding every single one and jabbing me with ice. I shook my head again.

He rolled his eyes, silently telling me that I was dumb to not accept the warmth his furs offered. He let out a softer grunt, almost coaxing this time, and I couldn't help the call of warmth, my fingers feeling as if they'd been cut off they were so numb. I sidled closer, trying to stay upright and not lean on him as his arm came around me. I knew he was offering survival, and I had no choice but to take it, the blue tips of my fingers telling me frostbite had taken its hold.

Once my teeth stopped chittering, I met each pair of eyes. "Okay, one of you better start explaining before I start kicking shins," I warned, stifling a groan as heat sank into my side. "Please." My voice broke a little, the fear of actually being kidnapped hitting me now that my brain wasn't as frozen.

The first male exchanged looks with the others, before speaking slowly, as if to a child. "You were put on the cart with us a few leagues back. They found you in the snow, assumed you were heading towards the Stormcloak camp they'd raided. We're heading to Helgen." The ominous and almost defeated tone to his deep voice confused me.

"What's Helgen?" I asked, not liking the way the three men looked at one another. "That's in England, right?" My heart began to race as the blond looked confused, then sad. I glanced around again, recognizing nothing. "Please tell me I can go home."

"No, Lass. Helgen is the end of the road for people like us."

_People like us?_

The finality in his voice sent a shiver skittering down my spine as we passed through the gates of Helgen, the heavy wood slamming behind us. His words clicked in my head as we rounded the bend, a block and an axe ready and waiting for us.

_But I haven't done anything. I don't know where I am._

Our cart stopped and we were ordered to step down. The warmth left me as the dark-haired male that I'd been curled up against moved. His dark eyes met mine for a split second, almost apologizing. Why he was saying sorry, I didn't know, but as I stepped down, I knew I would soon find out.


	2. That's Not Spyro

My knees hit the dirt, a boot pushing on my back. I'd tried to tell them that I didn't know what the hell they were talking about, or who the hell these 'Stormcloaks' were, but they wouldn't listen. The soldier that followed our cart tried to defend me, saying I wasn't on the list, but his buddy, some blood thirsty bitch wasn't having any of it. She'd already ordered the death of the rat-faced man from our cart, letting her men fire arrows into his back as he ran away. I'd watched, horrified, as she pushed another guy down and his head . . . I'll never forget the way it rolled, like a puppet with its strings cut.

"Kneel," she ordered, her voice a whip in the icy air.

I flinched as the executioner grinned behind his mask, an unholy glee in his eyes. My neck hit the block making me choke for a second. Staring down at the crimson-stained dirt in front of me, I pleaded with God, someone I knew I didn't speak to enough, but hoped would pull something out of his arse to save me.

_Please, please, please, don't let me die. I just want to go home._

The axe whistled in the air, almost a pleasant sound, if it hadn't been the signal of my death. "Please," I whispered again, my whole body going from hot to cold in seconds, icy shivers trailing from my spine to my fingertips. I bit my lip, squeezing my eyes shut as the world fell silent, not even a whisper of sound reaching my numb ears. A breath, hitched and broken left my lips as the axe began to fall. The silence shattered, shocked gasps and cries echoing across the courtyard.

I opened one eye, listening intently to the sounds around me. Someone was shouting something, but I knew I was in shock, I couldn't hear, couldn't make sense of the screams. _I . . . why ca-_

The ground shook, breaking my thoughts and bringing my head up. I came face to face with . . . a dragon. My mind went white for a second, jumbled, half formed thoughts spinning around like a whirlwind of panic, fear and an overwhelming sense of dread.

"That's not fucking Spyro," I whispered, not daring to break eye contact with the thing as it glared down at me. Its ebony maw opened, a gout of flame shooting from between hundreds of teeth, licking the ground not three feet in front of me. I flinched back, still bound as the air crackled and it spread its wings.

"Totally not Spyro," I groaned, trying to roll to my feet. It opened its mouth again, staring right at me and I knew I was cooked. Instead of fire however, it let out a burst of sound, the voice rattling my ears, oddly familiar and yet totally alien. I didn't really have much time to think as I was thrown back, landing in a heap on the floor.

"Hey girl, get up, now's our chance!"

I dragged my head up from the ground, blinking blearily at the blond bear man from earlier. "I can't," I groaned, my head fuzzy and my voice weak. He let out a curse, running over to me and plucking me from the ground by the scruff of my neck. "Ow! I'm not a fucking cat, put me down!" I shouted, my legs swinging as he carried me towards a tower.

He almost dropped me as the dragon took off, arrows littering its body. Once we reached relative safety, he thrust me into the arms of the fur wearing guy, who caught me and pulled me back, the door slamming behind us. "We need to move, now!" the once gagged guy said, his voice full of command.

I looked up into his face. "Unless you hadn't noticed, Spyro's dad is outside," I told him, pulling away. "What the hell is going on here? First y'all wanna cut my damn head off, now some beastie is trying to cook me alive. I'm going home. Game fucking over." I tugged on my cuffs. "Let me out of these, I'm going to kick someones arse."

I was plucked from the ground again and shook. "That is Ulfric Stormcloak, Jarl of Windhelm, you will show some respect," snarled the blond. He shook me again, before putting me down and cutting my bonds. "This is no game, Lass. I don't know what's going on, or where you came from, but that out there is a dragon. You can't go out, so just stay with us and you might get out of this alive."

I rubbed my wrists, looking between the men. "You're serious aren't you?" I gasped, reality sinking in at the looks of fear and shock on the faces around me. "Great, well that's just fucking wonderful. I go to sleep and wake up in fucking fantasy land." I could feel it building as my voice rose, a panic attack of epic proportions.

My chest began to seize, my heart racing and my whole body shook. I began to chant, trying to calm myself down as I hyperventilated, the world fading around me until all I could hear was my pulse in my ears. "I want to wake up. I want to go home," I sobbed. "I want to wake up."

Gentle fingers cupped my face, bringing my eyes up to meet sure dark ones. "Calm yourself, little one. I promise, if you stay with me, I will get you home. You have my word," Ulfric said, his voice reaching through my panic like a hand through water to a drowning person. The tower shook, the dragon throwing itself against the walls trying to get to us. "Breathe," he whispered, not looking away until I'd calmed myself enough to nod.

He smiled at me, a grim smile, but it gave me strength. "Now, stay close to me, no matter what you see or what happens. Don't let go of my hand." He took my hand in his, warm against cold and looked at the blond. "Ralof, find us a way out. We need to get to Windhelm."

The blond whose name was apparently Ralof nodded, turning on heel and began to run up the stairs to the left. Ulfric pulled me with him, keeping me behind as we ascended. I could hear the screams of dying soldiers outside accented by the constant drumming of dragon wings and roars. We kept moving, my shorter legs straining to keep up, winding around and around until we came to trapdoor in the roof. Ralof tugged on it, his muscles rippling as he pulled, dragging it open to let the sun blaze through.

"Come on, before it sees us escape!" he shouted, scrambling out into the open. Ulfric turned, scooping me into his arms and gently pushing me through before he followed. "This way!" Ralof began to lead the way over the ramparts, dodging arrows meant for the dragon already bearing down on us. Smoke hung in the air, black against blue, a livid bruise against the sky as the buildings around us burned. Screams and battle cries harried my ears, the hand in mine the only thing keeping me from falling.

I was dragged to the ground to hit the floor as it swept over head, buffeting us with gusts from its wings, roaring its fury at missing us. It wheeled around coming for a second attempt, once more spitting its strange language at me. I could almost understand, the words ringing in my ears, lingering for too long. I was dragged to my feet, my hand once more clenched in Ulfric's as he pulled me behind him, the three of us ducking and diving, a mad dash for the trees at the end of the wall.

"We'll have to jump!" Ulfric bellowed, pausing at the end as Ralof leaped from the wall, catching hold of a branch and swinging down. The Jarl followed, displaying more grace and dexterity than I would have thought possible for such a huge male. "Come on, little one, I'll catch you."

I peered down, shaking my head. "Oh no, I can't, I . . . No, just no." My hands flapped in front of me as I did a little dance. "I don't want to die." I could hear the dragon behind me, feel its breath on my neck. I knew it was fight or well . . . flight. Glancing back, I saw it open its maw, flames coating its tongue. My fate decided I leaped, stretching out my hands to catch a branch, but I missed and my chest hit the thick limb sending my breath screaming from my body. I fell backwards, hitting nearly every branch on the way down, cuts and scrapes shearing over my skin. I landed on something soft, my face pressed into warm fur.

"I've got you," Ulfric whispered, taking off in a long, loping run with me still in his arms. "I need you to stay silent now, little one. If you make a noise, it will find us. It seems to be after you." He froze, ducking close to a tree, the bark scraping my back as he pressed me up against it. He put his finger to my lips as I whimpered, catching sight of the beast flying over head.

"Ulfric," I whispered against his finger, my hands clutching his coat. "Don't let it eat me, please." He gazed down into my eyes, promising me without words he'd protect me. I let out a soft breath as it passed on, heading to the east, its huge black wings like blades in the air. "Its gone?"

He nodded, setting me down on my feet. "Can you run?" he asked gently. "I can carry you, but it will slow us down."

Ralof came to our sides, looking us both over. "She's hurt," he said, nodding to my arms and face. Looking down, I grimaced. The bone of my left arm was poking through my skin, blood seeping from it. I hadn't even felt it until he pointed it out. Ulfric stepped back, pulling me down to kneel on the floor, before he began to search his pockets. I examined my arm, a wave of sickness passing over me, the sight too much for me. Closing my eyes, I let out soft, panting huffs, fighting down the bile from my empty stomach.

"I have a potion, hold on. They didn't search me properly," he said, his brow furrowed. "Hold it up, little one." I did as I was told opening my eyes to watch him intently, wondering if he had a medical kit or something. "Here it is." In his hand lay a tiny glass bottle, full of crimson liquid. "Drink it."

I used my right hand to take it, fumbling with the stopper until he removed it and tipped it to my lips. Sour, foul tasting liquid hit my tongue and I had to resist the impulse to spit it out. I swallowed dutifully, my stomach rolling as my arm began to burn. I wanted to scream and was about to when a pair of soft lips met mine, swallowing the sound. Arms came around me, pinning me down as I thrashed against the pain, Ulfric's mouth and tongue distracting me from the almost unbearable agony. Soon enough, a cool wave of bliss passed down my arm and he lifted his head.

"I had to stop you from screaming while it healed. I didn't think a more . . . brutal way would have been pleasurable for you," he said softly, lifting my arm up. I gasped, running my fingers over the tender area that had not two minutes ago been ragged, with my bone showing through. "The potion, though healing, does hurt. Apologies. Now, we have to move." He helped me to my feet as Ralof looked between us, his brows vanishing into his hair.

I blushed, ducking my head as my hand was captured and we began to run. We followed what I thought was a deer trail, bounding past trees and rocks, leaping streams and gullies until I felt numb at the pounding pace. My feet had began to hurt miles back and my rather unfit body was screaming at me to lie down and curl into a little ball, but the hand in mine kept me going.

"How far?" I called, almost tripping as I lifted my gaze from the ground. Ulfric balanced me, slowing down a little now. "We've been running for hours, where are we going?" The wind that had picked up an hour ago almost ripped my words from my lips, howling like a dragon in the night. I shivered, pulling my rags around me again. Ulfric turned, his mouth opening to answer when his words were cut off by a howl, this one close, not like the screams of the wind.

"Wolves!" Ralof shouted from up ahead, turning to face us, a small dagger in his hand. Ulfric pushed me behind him, his own hands empty as they closed in, protecting me. From between the trees, like ghostly shadows, six snarling wolves crept towards us, teeth bared as their muzzles twitched. Fur rippled along their backs, huge paws tipped with razor sharp claws digging into the mud as they braced to attack.

Ulfric took a deep breath, a sound like a wave roaring from him as three wolves flew backwards, launched into the air by the power of his voice. I looked on, stunned, confused and terrified. He did the same thing as the dragon . . .. _What is he?_ I slowly backed away, inching out from behind the tree, preparing to run.

"Don't," Ulfric whispered, his voice reaching me over the snarls of the remaining wolves. "Don't run from me, little one. When it's safe, I will explain." He shouted again, his booming voice echoing off rock and tree alike. Ralof ran forward, tackling a wolf that dared charge, the two men defending me even as I kept backing away, my hands up, my eyes wide.

I froze as a snarl sounded behind me, turning slowly to come face to face with the biggest wolf I'd ever seen. Remembering a documentary, I realized I faced the alpha of the pack, one that looked really, really pissed at me. It stepped forward, lowering its head, dripping teeth gleaming as its muscles bunched to leap. I stumbled back, falling onto my butt, my hands scrabbling for a weapon.

Coming up with nothing but dirt sifting between my fingers, I met the eyes of my death.

"Fuck."

Claws came towards me, knocking me back, teeth seconds from my throat as my head hit something hard and sharp behind me. My vision blurred as Ulfric bellowed in the background, rank breath assailed my nose as the teeth grazed my skin. My hands fisted in matted fur, trying to push the beast off me, my knees against its soft underbelly. I fought, desperate and terrified, clutching its neck in an attempt to stop it from ripping out my throat. I couldn't find purchase, its wet coat too slick and oily, and for a second, suspended in time, I felt the hand of death on my shoulder.

I closed my eyes.

My hands slipped.

A snarl reached my ears.

My lips parted to scream.

. . . And then . . . silence.

The world came into focus a little, something soft and warm brushing my face. "Little one?"

I blinked, sound like rushing water in my ears. A huge weight lay across me, crushing the wind out of my lungs. My mouth was full of fur, and teeth dug into my shoulder almost hard enough to break the skin. ". . .. Happened?" I mumbled, my voice sounding far away. "Did I kill it?"

The huge weight lifted, thrown from me by strong hands. Dark eyes peered down into mine, concern and fear etched into the handsome features. His lips moved, but again, I had to strain to hear it. "What?" I mumbled again.

He shook his head, pulling me up from the ground and holding me across his lap. Ralof stood a few feet away, looking down at the alpha before his eyes flicked to me, a strange look of curiosity and mistrust on his weatherbeaten face. "We should take her back to Windhelm," he said finally, crossing his arms. I noticed he hadn't put his knife away, and for some reason, that scared me. I hadn't even realized I'd heard him until he turned away.

"What happened?" I asked Ulfric, turning to look at him, shivering despite his body heat. He wrapped his arms around me tighter, and I didn't have the strength to pull away, despite the screaming in my head; instincts I didn't even know I possessed telling me that something was wrong, very wrong.

He looked down into my eyes, his searching mine, making me feel as if he was reaching into my very soul for an answer I didn't have. "You used the power of the voice," he whispered, glancing at Ralof as his head snapped around to us. "Rare does it happen, when one is born with the skill naturally. Most must train for years, decades . . . just to do what you did instinctively. I am no seer or mage, but I beleive you to be Dragonborn."

Ralof's mouth dropped open. "Dragonborn?" he gasped, staring down at me as he hurried over. He knelt beside me, the same seeking look on his face. "If she is, the Greybeards will want her." Dark looks were exchanged, a silent sense of foreboding creeping once more over me. "You are sure of this, Ulfric?"

Ulfric growled a little. "Yes. I will train her. Now, let's move, before more come to the scent of blood." He scooped me up, looking one last time at the dead wolf, before loping off. Once we broke the cover of the trees, the two men looked up into the star-filled sky, scanning the stars. With no seen signal exchanged, they began to run to the left, snow falling and yet not reaching the ground. My hands burrowed against Ulfric's chest, seeking heat.

He let out a soft sigh. "We need to find you coverings, little one," he whispered to me, looking down into my face. "Your eyes are like the forest in the spring," he said, almost surprised. I blinked, watching him as he lifted his head, once more focusing on the path in front of us. I didn't know how he had the strength to carry me as we ran, but I was thankful he did. _Nearly dying several times in one day . . . kinda takes it out of a girl._ I watched the mountains in the distance, praying not to see a black shape winging towards us, Spyro's dad having another pop now we were in the open.

No such thing happened, and as we traveled, I began to drift, snuggled into Ulfric's coat, like a child in the arms of a guardian. _Hardly a child when he's kissing you . . .. I know, but you know what I mean_. Snorting in disgust at the thoughts in my head, I rested my temple against his chest, listening his heart pound as the snow finally stuck to the ground.

"Ralof, Khajiit caravan ahead!" Ulfric called a while later, his voice jolting me out of the half sleep I'd fallen into. I looked up, spotting several gracefully running dark figures in the distance, just cresting a hill. I had been half asleep and hadn't even noticed other life in the almost barren, frozen land we ran through.

Ulfric raised his voice again, calling over the wind. "We need clothing and armor." His hands tightened around me as his pace increased to match Ralof's, bringing us along side him. "I will barter with them, perhaps allow them into the city if they provide service."

Ralof once more lost his eyebrows to his hair. "You would allow them into the ci-" His words were cut off by Ulfric's growl. "Of course, my Jarl." He ran ahead, a high whistle singing from his lips as he plowed through the snow and ice. Ulfric slowed as several dark clad figures wheel around in a slow arch, their gaits never faltering. The way they moved reminded me of predators, almost animalistic in grace. They loped back towards us, stopping a few feet away and lowered their hoods.

"They're . . . cats," I gasped, as Ulfric set me carefully onto my feet. I stumbled forward slightly, Ulfric's hand on my elbow stopping me from face planting. "You're cats," I said to the one in the lead, watching open mouthed as his ears twitched and his eyes turned to mine.

His tail twitched behind him. "We are Khajiit," he said, his voice like smoke and gravel, almost purring. He didn't look offended, not that I could tell, but his weird cat mouth lifted into a little feline smile. "The one's name is Ri'saad, leader of this tribe." He gestured with clawed paws? hands?

I smiled at him, shivering. "Nice to meet cha," I said, still hovering close to Ulfric. I squeezed his hand, feeling suddenly awkward as the other cats sniffed the air as if scenting me. Their eyes scanned me, their tails and ears twitching as if agitated.

"You summoned us, and we have come, what can we do for you?" Ri'saad asked, bowing his head a little. Orange eyes never left mine, and for some reason I had a sense he was reading more than just my expression.

_Creepy cat be creepin',_ I thought, letting Ulfric step forward, glad to be out of the limelight. "We need armor for our friend here, something warm that will protect and keep her from freezing. Ralof needs a sword, as do I, and I think . . . a bow for her." He spoke regally, a king talking to subordinates, his baring just as bold. "I will allow your caravan to enter Windhelm and trade there in the winter."

The cat-man purred in delight. "This is accepted, Jarl of the snow lands," he said, clicking his fingers. Two more cat people came forward, carrying packs made of a coarse fabric. They dropped them at our feet, before bowing and backing away. Ri'saad knelt, pulling out several items, firstly two swords, handing one each to Ulfric and Ralof, before handing me several bundles of fabric and fur. His eyes gleamed. "For you, woman of lands not known."

I blinked down at him, not understanding his words, before looking around. "No way am I getting nakie all up in here. It's freezing and . . .." Ulfric's look cut me off mid rant and his finger pointed to a cluster of trees and bushes. "If I get eaten, I'm kicking your butt, got it?" I asked, raising my brow when the Ri'saad chuckled.

Ulfric grinned, shrugging his broad shoulders. "I know, little one, but at least you will be warm while you do it." He laughed out loud as I stuck my tongue out and stomped through the knee deep snow drifts to the trees, the laugher only increasing as I face planted. Cursing him with every fiber of my being, I stepped behind the thickest tree I could, peering around to make sure no creepers were about . . . or dragons . . . cause dragons burning my booty would be bad.

I huffed again, quickly stripping down, shivering as my skin met the cold air, before dragging the leather and fur over my skin. "Oh, now I know a pervert made this!" I squeaked, covering my rather ample bosom. The hide and fur covered my body to my thighs, strapping over my stomach and shoulders, but leaving my chest hardly covered at all. On my feet, I thankfully tugged on fur-lined boots, sighing in contentment as my toes warmed. Looking at the wrist guards, I shrugged, before pulling them on too. "Now, how can I cover my boobs?" I muttered out loud.

"Little one!" Ulfric called impatiently.

Peeking out, I caught sight of his impatient face, before noting the Khajiit had gone. Ralof grinned, crossing his arms and daring me to come out with a raised brow. I wanted to shave them, the stupid, wriggling capatillers. Muttering to myself, I stomped over, glaring at them both, my hands still clutching my boobs as if they were going to freeze off.

"You see this shit? I mean, seriously, whoever made this was not a damn woman," I spat, dropping my hands. "Cause whoever made this, had no idea what support is supposed to be." The cold chilled my skin, but the armor kept most of it away; more than the rags had anyway.

Ralof opened his mouth, but a sharp elbow from Ulfric shut him up. "It will protect you, little one," he soothed, handing me a bow and quiver of arrows. "Put these on, and put this dagger in the belt around your hips." He handed me a small knife that glowed red against the snow.

"You're seriously trusting me with sharp things?" I stammered, looping the bow awkwardly around my back along with the quiver full of rattling arrows. "Me, who can't even walk through snow without falling on her face? We're so dead if more wolves come, you know that, right?" Tucking the dagger into my belt, I shrugged. "Just sayin, as a disclaimer, when you get to the pearly gates, don't be giving out my name."

Ulfric chuckled again, shaking his head. "Come, we're only a day or two away from Windhelm, we need to find somewhere to camp for the night," he said, taking my hand.

Ralof once more ran ahead. _Seriously, he's like an excited puppy, sniffing out rabbits or something_. I ran beside Ulfric, mentally groaning as the snow came down harder around us, covering us in white specs. Soon I could hardly see for white, losing sight of the pup over and over. I blinked snow out of my eyes as a whistle came from somewhere to the left. The Jarl veered off the road, almost dragging me through the drifts, his dark form the only thing I had to follow as I let go of his hand to wipe my eyes.

I bumped into his back and bounced, landing back first into the snow. "Hey, warning next time, dude," I muttered, spitting snow from my mouth. Shaking my head, I peered around, not spotting him in the white. "Well shit."


	3. First Night

**A/N *Cough* Um, so, 'lil' smut ahead, you may wanna skip over it if you're uncomfortable. XD **

I stumbled forward, shaking snow from my crimson hair. "Crap, crap, crap. Where the fudge did you go, magic man?" I groaned, my questing fingers reaching out and meeting with something hard. "Not a person . . .." My fingers were caught and something pulled me into darkness. Rock and mud brushed my face making me sneeze and cough. I struggled for a second, thinking a bear had got me, when soft whispers met my ear, stilling my movements.

"Shhh, little one, it's me," Ulfric soothed. "I'm sorry. I didn't realized you hadn't followed behind me." He gently put me on my feet, leading me through the dim cave he'd pulled me into until a small glow appeared. Ralof crouched in front of a small flame, adding sticks and bits of fabric that I recognized as the rags I'd been wearing. Not upset by the loss, I followed Ulfric until I could see properly.

The cave, not much bigger than my living room at home, about twenty feet long and fifteen in width, with a high ceiling echoing our steps, felt cold and damp, freezing my skin as I looked around. "Please tell me I'm not going to be eaten by bats," I muttered, looking suspiciously up at the rock above our heads. When it didn't so much as twitch, I brought my gaze back down, peering between the two men. "So, what now?" I asked, my soft tone echoing across the room.

Ralof tossed something at me, and I caught it without thinking, only to stare down in horror. He'd thrown two dead bunny rabbits at me, their throats cut and bloody. I tossed them back, gaping at him. "What the hell, pup?" I gasped, wiping my hands on my armor. "If you're trying to impress me, dead rabbits ain't the way to go." I shuddered, before glaring at his snort.

"They're not a gift, lass. I caught them, you cook them. They need skinning and cleaning," he said, glancing up at Ulfric who was gathering more twigs. "You're the woman, you cook." He rolled his eyes, as if that was the most obvious thing in the world, oblivious to the fact he was rather close to a kick in the head.

I bent at the waist, bringing my glare to his level. "Take it back," I spat, annoyed._ I mean, seriously, I gives a fuck what day and age he's from, but the whole 'me man you woman thing' yeah, not gonna wash with me._ "I might be a woman, but I do not cook." My hands landed on my hips, my eyes pinning him even as Ulfric chuckled in the background. I leaned over more, poking him in the chest. "Now, what do you say?"

Ralof looked at me, then down at my finger, then at the rabbits before finally looking at me again. "I . . .. But it is a woma-" I poked him harder, daring him to continue the sentence. "Sorry, Lady Amiee." He looked like a beaten puppy, all sad eyes and pathetic pouting. "I'll cook."

"Damn skippy you will," I grumbled, standing up and rubbing my eyes. I felt as if someone had just stolen all of my energy suddenly and the world shifted. "Jesus, I'm tired. I take it we're sleeping here?" I asked them both, trying not to look as Ralof began to skin and cut the rabbits up, lying out the organs on a flat rock by the fire. He cleaned the fur with some snow, before setting them aside and dicing the meat.

Ulfric threw another bundle of sticks onto the fire, before kneeling in front of it. "We can't keep going in that storm, not even ice wolves would venture out in that," he said, grabbing a sack I hadn't noticed before. "I have procured bedrolls and food, as well as the rabbits, we will be fine for the night." He unrolled three thick pelts, kind of like sleeping bags but more . . . natural. Lying one on the floor, he gestured for me to sit, before putting his beside mine and Ralof's on the other side of the fire. From within the pack, he handed me a flask and something that looked similar to beef jerky.

I took both tentatively, opening the flask and sniffing. Alcoholic and pungent, the smell released wasn't exactly unpleasant, though it made me gag a little. I tipped it to my lips, the taste thankfully nothing like the smell. Swallowing a small amount, I groaned as warmth hit my stomach, spreading through my limbs until I fell back on the covers. "Good god, what is that?"

Ulfric took the flask, taking a sip before handing it to Ralof. "Cyrodilic brandy," he said, his voice warm. "The best brandy in all of Skyrim." A smile tilted his lips as the smell of cooking meat wafted through the cave. Worried about wolves and smoke, I glanced back at the crack in the door.

"No wolves prowl tonight, they will be safe within their dens," Ulfric said, drawing my gaze to him. He offered a reassuring smile, before Ralof called the food to be ready. "Come, let's eat, then rest. We will not reach Windhelm tomorrow, but I hope to put several leagues behind us."

I sat up, groaning, the loss of warmth from the bedroll fighting with the need to fill my empty stomach. I bit into the jerky, only to spit it out in the most lady-like manner I could. "Ew, what the hell is that?" I asked, lifting it to my eyes to inspect the product. It looked like honest to god, beef jerky, but the taste . . .. _Mouldy pigs feet or something._ I handed it back, taking a makeshift plate full of meat, cheese, bread and an apple. "Thanks."

The men tucked in with the expected gusto, silent but for the occasional grunting. I approached the lack of utensils more delicately, taking my knife and spearing a cube of meat. It fell apart, almost as if it was taunting me, daring me to break the manners ingrained through my very English grandmother. I tried again, valiantly spearing a firmer looking piece. "Oh for fucks sake, you're taking the piss now," I growled at the meat.

"Taking the piss?" Ralof asked, his mouth full. He swallowed, looking at me almost as if proud. "Sounds painful . . .. Bloodthirsty wench." He winced as a slice of apple smacked him square in the forehead. "What was that for?"

I did my best impression of him, raising my brow. "One, calling me a wench, and two, for speaking with your mouth full." I growled at my third failed attempt and finally threw caution to the wind-after a quick look around as if my nan was watching-and picked up a square of meat. "Oh, now you stay whole." Popping it into my mouth, I sighed, chewing in contentment at the rich, gamey taste. I'd never really been a fan of rabbit, but to be honest, I was so hungry it didn't even matter. I tried it with cheese and the combination just made me groan in delight.

"If you carry on making noises like that, little one, I won't be able to restrain myself," Ulfric whispered into my ear, his lips brushing my skin. Shivers trickled down my spine as I swallowed, turning to face him. "Don't look at me like that, the fault is not mine."

I blinked, our faces inches from each others, the smell of brandy, meat and woodsmoke weaving around us. My free hand fisted in my bedroll, my cheeks heating in a way that had nothing to do with the fire. My blush deepened as Ralof cleared his throat loudly, looking between us with a knowing look on his face. "Shut it, pup," I warned, turning away from both of them to finish my meal in silence.

_You're in a strange world, where people are cats, dragons are a thing and men think women are wenches. You don't know where the fuck you are, and you're flirting with Mr. Chocolate Eyes over there! What the fuck, Amiee? You have to get home. I mean, maybe Ulfric has some magic potion to get you there, but you don't have to sleep with him!_ My thoughts became tangled, a confusing maze of twists and turns, one wanting one thing, another wanting something totally different, neither of them rational or making any sense. I didn't even notice time passing until a great snore jolted me from my reverie. Looking up from my hands, I noticed Ralof asleep in his bedroll, his features slack, and slightly adorable.

I turned, shifting from my numb hip to my butt, crossing my legs. Ulfric sat, his fist under his chin, his elbow on his knee in a classing Byron pose. His dark features and contemplative expression made me pause, not wanting to disturb him. I let my eyes wander his face, before I felt like a creeper and had to look away, turning to face the fire. The dancing flames and crackling of burning wood soothed me, entranced me until the world faded. I didn't see Ulfric move.

A hand cupped my cheek, the other tunneling into my hair as lips met mine, a tongue sweeping into my parted mouth. I was pushed back, Ulfric's large body caging mine to the fur as he kissed me, our breath mingling, my hands reaching for him, not to push him away, but to bring him closer. His fur coat fell to my hands, leaving him in a tunic of some kind, I didn't stop to look, instead let my fingers trail up his back to his dark hair. He growled, low, deep and incredibly seductive, nipping my lower lip before pulling back and leaving me dazed.

"I've been wanting to do that since I first saw your eyes in the snow. You captivated me, even your strange speak and looks. I couldn't resist it any more," he whispered, gazing down at me, fire behind his dark eyes. I saw myself reflected in them, large eyes, red hair and pale skin. "You are surely a witch, and yet I can not resist even then." His lips descended again capturing mine and stealing my breath. His hands left my hair, ghosting over my neck to brush the skin of my chest, before spanning my small waist. "Tell me to stop." His voice lowered, nothing more than a whisper, a plea for sanity that I just didn't have.

"No," I whispered back, pulling his head back down, our tongues entwining as his hands moved to cup my breasts, thumbs dragging over the sensitive peaks through my armor. I gasped, electricity rippling through me, sending waves of heat to the center of my being. "Please, don't stop." The words left me, freezing time itself as he gazed down into my eyes.

I bit my lip, causing him to growl again. "I won't be able to hold back, you make me ache too much," he promised, a vow now as his hands began to remove my armor. I wanted to hide my body from his eyes, my too large breasts, my stomach that hadn't been flat in years, the scars that littered my skin like little red kisses of a razor blade. I wanted to cover myself, wrap the leather and fur around me so he wouldn't see, but I didn't, I let him look his fill as he stood, gazing down upon me with only wonder in his eyes.

His clothing fell to impatient fingers, landing in soft heaps on the floor. I let my eyes trace his wide shouldered and hair smattered chest, following the smokey trail over his stomach to his manhood, licking my lips before learning his strong legs and thick arms. I let my thighs tighten, trying to alleviate the growing heat blossoming between. My hand came up, ivory in the darkness to capture his, pulling him between my parted legs. His lips found my breast, suckling and lapping the tip, eliciting wanton groans as I writhed under him, trying to hold back the moans.

We froze for a second as Ralof grunted and rolled to face the wall, my giggle stifled by my hand. Once the large blond had settled again, Ulfric grinned, bending to kiss along my jaw, his teeth nipping my over-sensitive skin, my panting breath fanning his dark hair. I let my fingers explore his back and shoulders, using my nails when he caught the shell of my ear in his teeth, growling in response. Our bodies shifted, moving against one anothers in synchronized adoration, tender touches and kisses being pressed over every exposed inch. I nipped his shoulder as his hand slipped between us, stroking my stomach before slipping between my damp folds to the centre of my being.

He touched me, igniting fire that seemed to reach my very soul, each caress he made a brand upon my skin, marking my body in ways only we would ever know. "Ulfric," I sighed, my back arching from the bed, the once uncomfortable pallet feeling as soft as a feather bed beneath me. His rougher skin brushed my softer flesh as he replaced his hand with his shaft, growling against my neck as he thrust into me, filling me until I cried out. He pulled back, holding his weight on his arms, his hips moving powerfully, my legs locking around his back.

Our eyes met as he gazed down at me. "Mine," he whispered, cupping the back of my head and bringing me up to him. He sat on his heels, letting me straddle his thighs. "You're mine." His hands grazed my back, coming to rest on my rear, squeezing softly as he lifted me up, our eyes not leaving one anothers as we moved again, each stroke only fanning the flames until I felt I was ready to combust. The air around us seemed to glimmer, shining with something I couldn't name as the fire crackled in the background, only adding to the crescendo of our combined moans.

"Ulfric . . . please," I panted, my heart racing faster than that of a hummingbird. My hands kneaded his shoulders as my thighs tightened around his hips, my toes curling in the furr. "I need . . .." He bit my neck, harder than before, growling and driving me harder as if reaching the same pinnacle I was hanging from. I felt him swell within me, his arms tight bands of steel around my back, my hair falling over them as my head fell back like a cascade of fiery silk. I let out a low keen of rapture, barely holding on.

"Let go, little one, I will catch you," he groaned, his tongue lapping at the wounds on my neck. "Let go."

I shattered around him, the world fading in and out, becoming as real as the blade of a knife one second, before phasing out like a dreamscape of color. I forgot my own name, forgot where we were, forgot who I was, suspended in a strange state of animation, Ulfric's body bowing as we came together, falling off the precipice we'd clung to. My lips were captured as I gently sobbed, his hips jerking against mine, his hands almost hurting me as he broke, cresting the same wave I had. Aftershocks rippled through me, soothed by his fingers down my spine and his whispers of praise.

He lay me down, pulling his furs over us, sharing my bedroll with me, cocooning us in our own private world. For the longest time, we lay joined, until I couldn't bear his weight anymore. He seemed to realize this, gently rolling from me to brush my hair from my damp face.

The intensity of it, the way I had instinctively felt a connection with him. _Is it because we both do the shouting thing? Jesus, he . . .. Why do I need him so much?_

"Why are you crying, little one?" he asked, his voice low and concerned. He studied me, his fingers gently framing my cheeks as I tried to hide my face. "Do not hide, not from me." His lips pressed a kiss to my forehead, as gentle as a butterfly resting on a rose petal. "Never hide from me."

I stroked his cheek. "I'm not crying because I'm sad, I'm crying because that . . .. I've never felt that way before," I admitted, my voice the barest of whispers. His stubbled cheek felt rough under my fingers, but I didn't mind, I kind of liked it, considering I hated facial hair in general. Moving my hand up, I captured the wayward lock of dark silk that had fallen to his forehead. Thicker than mine, it fell through my fingers like luxury satin, making me want to do nothing but card my fingers through it all and lose myself in the sensation.

"I haven't either," he whispered back, sliding my thigh between his legs and hooking his over me. His arm came around me as he kissed my forehead again, tucking me into his chest. "I knew you were a witch. Your magic when we made love was beautiful." A soft puff of air ruffled my bangs as he looked down at me. "A witch that captured a Jarls heart."

I frowned a little. "I wasn't doing magic, magic is impossible," I told him, shaking my head. "It's all science and make believe. Illusions and stuff, I've never believed in it." Saying that though, had me thinking about the shimmers in the air. I'd thought it was because he made me feel more than I'd felt well . . . ever, but something was off about it now I thought back. "How can I have magic? I'm not even from this place. I'm from England, a tiny town where I'm a nobody."

It was his turn to frown this time. "I don't want to hear you say that about yourself again. You are Dragonborn, destined to rule the sky and earth, to walk the space inbetween and be seated on the high tables of Sovngarde when you pass through the veil. You will carry the souls of dragons within you, wielding their strength to defeat any foe who dares stand before you." His words carried, echoing through the cave. "But now, little one, my little one, you must rest. The day has been long, and the road has not been kind. Tomorrow, I hope we find a happier trail. I want you to see my home."

I nodded, agreeing with him, deciding to argue the point again tomorrow. Settling into his arms, my body loose and relaxed, I kissed a scar on his chest, wondering how he came about it. I was about to ask, when a slight rumbling snore left him. Chuckling, I nuzzled deeper into the furs as his arms tightened around me, caging me to his chest and making me feel safe. I closed my eyes, listening to his heart as I drifted into a deep sleep. The question as to why I felt so much for him in such a short time lingered in the back of my mind, but I couldn't process it, couldn't . . . rationalize it, my brain had decided to just shut down and savor the embrace. Darkness came, and this time, I welcomed it.


	4. Thu'um

I shivered, a cold blast of air sneaking under the furs I curled up in. I tried to move away from it, but had somehow managed to tangle myself up in the coverings, my legs and arms pinned down by the blanket. I struggled, the daily routine of fighting my way out of bed exhausting my stiff body. I didn't want to open my eyes, not yet. Something soft hit my face, making me jump.

"Come on, lass. You've been sleeping long enough," Ralof told me, a smug look on his face. He nodded down at the thing he'd thrown at me. "I made you those while you slept, should keep your hands warm." He stood up, silently handing me my armor, a blank look passing over his face. "I'll uh . . . wait outside. Breakfast is by the fire. Eat, then come outside." He shuffled away, squeezing through the crack in the wall.

I sat up once I'd disentangled myself, yawning widely before I picked up the dove gray ball of fur he'd given to me. Unrolling them, I was surprised to find a pair of soft, downy rabbit fur gloves, small enough to fit my hands and masterfully crafted, considering he'd done it-from what I could guess-without tools. I gently put them down, a small smile on my lips. "Silly pup," I muttered, pulling on my armor, my body deliciously aching. Blushing, I quickly scarfed down a breakfast of cheese, cold meat and an apple, drinking from a wine skin left for me.

"Who drinks wine at breakfast?" I mused, standing up. Rolling up mine and Ulric's bedroll, I doused the fire with snow from just inside the crack of the cave, before slipping on the gloves to warm my now icy fingers. Carrying the rolls from the cave, the wine skin looped around my neck beside the bow and arrow, I blinked into the weak sunlight. I caught sight of Ralof first, snooping around some bushes. Shaking my head at his strange behavior, I awkwardly approached Ulfric.

_Is he going to be all weird? I mean, I slept with him on the first day. Yeah, I know, I'm a dumbass and should know better . . .. Will he dismiss me now_? I paused, unsure if I should speak. My fears were ungrounded though, because the smile that lit his face up when he turned warmed me through despite the chill in the air.

"Good morning, little one," he said, walking over to me in three long strides. He caught me up into his arms and kissed me deeply, once again stealing my breath. "You slept well?" The exuberance in his tone made me laugh, and I shook my head as he gave me a curious look.

"I slept really well," I told him. "Even though you two snore like a couple of bears in hibernation. No wonder we weren't eaten in our sleep, even a dragon wouldn't dare come near that sound." I couldn't help tease, the good mood that filled me making me want to bound around like the pup. "Are we setting off?" I asked after a moment of watching them both bluster in a very manly fashion.

Ulfric put me down, a serious expression making his face change from carefree and happy, to that of a man with the weight of the world on his shoulders. I couldn't help but wonder which face he showed the most often, and by the slightly sad look on Ralof's face, I could tell it was the first.

"I want to teach you how to defend yourself before we go further," he said, cupping my cheek for a second. "Should we be attacked and me or Ralof fall in battle, I want to know you will make it out alive." Fear colored his tone, and the fact it was about me and not himself had my chest tightening.

I nodded, trying not to let it show. "Okay, I can try," I said, trying to fill my words with enthusiasm. I took off the bow and arrow, pulling my shoulders back to show I was ready. I knew I had to learn, and learn fast. "Show me what to do."

Ralof moved in front of me. "That's my job, lass." He pointed the a tree a little way away. "I set up a target, now I want you to shoot at it. Take your bow, learn its weight, how it feels in your hand. It needs to become part of you, then you will have the strength to pull the string."

I closed my eyes, running my hands over the finely sanded surface, feeling the knots and dents in the wood, the shape it held, the way it arched smoothly down to a point. The string, so taut and fine, almost delicate but as strong as steel, like a spiders silk. I tenderly held it, as gentle as I would a baby, tracing each inch my questing fingers encountered. "It's . . . I can't explain," I stammered, not opening my eyes.

Ulfric spoke this time. "You have the body of an archer, slender and yet strong, you also have a sharp eye. I've seen the way you notice the smallest of things, from the twitching of a Khajiits tail, to earlier, as you left the cave. I don't even think you noticed, but a bird flew past you and your eyes tracked it, never losing sight even though it moved faster than most eyes would see." His hands met my shoulders. "Notch and arrow and draw the string."

I reached over my right shoulder with my right hand, drawing a feathered bolt, gliding it across my fingers spaced an inch apart on the center of the bows arch. It fit perfectly, as if made to be in my arms. My shoulders bunched, the tail of the bow slotting into the string, my arm drawing back, feathers tickling my cheek.

Ralof stepped forward, coming to stand beside me. "Now, see your target, feel the wind, both eyes open. Never take your eyes from the target and you will not miss. When you feel it, deep in your stomach, loose the arrow, let if free and claim your target."

I took a breath, holding it as my chest bowed forward, my arm trembling just a little. Steadying myself, I stared down the shaft of the arrow, the tip glinting in the sun. Past it, I could see my target, a small red rag gusting in the breeze. I slowly let my breath go as my fingers released the bolt. It whistled through the air, almost slow to my eyes, arching into the sky, before falling and slamming into the bark of the tree. I'd hit the tree but not my target.

"Try again, wait until you feel it's right, not when you think it's right," Ralof said, his voice neither disappointed or angry. "Now draw."

I once more fitted an arrow to the string, aiming a millimeter to the left, a fraction lower than before, a sense of rightness filling me. I took a breath, cold air hissing through my teeth. I didn't let it out this time, not until the arrow hit the mark, stilling the fluttering rag.

"Fuck yeah, donkey!"

I lowered the bow, looking between the two men, noting their confused looks. "It's an expression of . . . excitement, I guess. It's like a well done, or something," I tried to explain, the looks between them making me blush. "Just . . . don't ask, 'kay?" I cleared my throat. "How did I do?"

Ulfric shook his head then smiled. "You have natural talent with the bow, little one, as I knew you would," he said, moving to wrap his arm around my shoulders. "Now, I will see if you have a natural talent for the Thu'um." His voice held power, a call that reached into my soul, pulling me to the path I never knew I'd walk. I didn't understand, not really, but despite my instincts and need to go home, I trusted him.

"Thu'um?" I asked, tilting my head a little. "And that is . . . what?" I shivered as the wind picked up again, glaring at the sky. "I've decided mother nature hates me." Rubbing my gloved hands together, I watched Ulfric shake his head at my hate of snow.

"The thu'um is the power of the voice. To speak the language of the dragons, projecting it into physical form is something very few can do. The Graybeards harness this power, but they do not absorb dragon souls, not like a dragonborn. I do not know who their master is, I left before I was given that knowledge, but they have learned how to shot without a soul." Ulfric stroked his stubble as he spoke, pacing away a little. "I can not use all of the dragon words, being that they are mostly lost since the fall of Alduin, but I can teach you the first word a novice would be taught by the Graybeards. Fus Roh Dah."

He turned, seeming to draw a deep breath as that magic I'd felt before filled the air, shimmering over me, comforting and familiar, like my favorite blanket coming off the radiator. It wrapped around me, drawing me closer to Ulric as he opened his mouth, a great crack of sound leaving him, almost impossible to imagine the sound coming from a human. It roared across the snow, a physical thing, tearing up the tundra, sending flurries and drifts into the sky to settle once more in a white haze.

I gasped as the pressure on my ears eased, the strange underwater feeling passing as my ears popped. Ralof grinned, brushing snow out of his hair before shaking like a dog to dislodge the ice flakes from his armor. "You did something similar with the wolf," he told me, crossing his arms over his chest, his hair fluttering in the wind.

Facing Ulfric, I shook my head. "I think I'd notice doing something like that," I told him, my voice matter of fact. "You must have done it by accident or something." I looped my bow back over my shoulder, settling the string comfortably. "I mean, it must hurt or something."

Ulfric cupped my cheek. "Little one, do you feel yourself breathing? Do you think about it?" he asked, waiting until I shook my head. "Shouting to a Dragonborn is as natural as breathing, instinctive in the face of danger." His thumb stroked my cheek. "Do not doubt this, I know you can feel it within you. Unleash it, Amiee."

The way he said my name, so sure and believing, it sent a ripple through me, like a cat stretching in the sun. I closed my eyes, searching inside myself, seeking some kind of well of power, something that I didn't understand about myself. I knew it was there, I'd felt it since the second I'd heard the dragon shout, welling inside me, like calling to like, only getting stronger the closer I was to Ulfric.

My chest swelled, drawing in breath.

My heart thumped in my chest.

My lips parted, eyes opening, power growing inside, until . . ..

"Fus Roh Dah!"

The world trembled, the ice shattering as my voice broke through like a hurricane against summer grass, tearing snow and trees, branches ripped down by the sheer power of my voice. The world stopped turning for a second, that feeling of being suspended in time hovering over me until the hold broke, reality snapping back into place.

Silence fell, not even a bird making a sound in the trees. Something rose, something I couldn't name. The sky darkened, an echo spanning from somewhere high in the mountains to the west.

"Dovahkiin!"

I flinched, the tone sounding odd to me, much like the way Ulfric's shout did. Almost . . . false. This shout held the voices of more than one, all weaker than mine, but stronger than the Jarls. I wanted to cover my ears at the _wrongness_ of it. Ulric growled, looking towards a far off peak, his eyes darkening.

"I thought we would be far enough away," he muttered, running his hand through his hair. "No matter, they never leave the mountain, unless she goes to them, they are powerless." He exchanged looks with Ralof, before once more cupping my cheek. "You did well little one, and the thu'um is strong within you, but now we must once more run." He picked up his sword, his bedroll strapped to his back.

"Wait, what? Who are 'they'? Why are we running? You can't just say a load of ominous crap then tell me we're running again. Jesus Christ, Ulfric. Who the hell can shout like that? You were looking at a frickin mountain bigger than Kilimanjaro, hundreds of miles away, was it a dragon?" My voice rose, calling to him as he ran, my feet not moving. I wouldn't move an inch until he answered my questions.

"Ralof," Ulfric shouted, exasperation and annoyance in his voice.

I was scooped up, thrown like a sack of potatoes over the huge blonde's shoulder. I blinked as the snow under his boots began to move, my legs pinned by strong hands, my chest bouncing painfully on his back. "Put me down, pup!" I screeched once I'd caught my breath and managed to get my hair out of my mouth. I started to kick, punching him in the back, trying to get loose. "I mean it, I'll beat the crap out of you in a second."

"Hush wench," Ralof growled, his hand making contact with my rear in a hard slap. "The whole of Skyrim can hear you, do you want us to be attacked?"

I spluttered for a second. "Did you just . . . spank me?" I asked, holding his hips for support, my voice shocked.

He chuckled. "Not hard enough to bruise you, don't go caterwauling about it," he said, smacking my rump again, his pace increasing, making me dizzy. "Now hush, we are in bandit land."

I growled, returning the slap, wincing as my hand stung. "Fucker," I whispered, knowing he could hear me. I caught sight of Ulfric running beside us and smiled wickedly. "Ulfric, pup here just spanked my butt," I told him, knowing my lover would probably laugh. I was only teasing really, and knew the seriousness of the warning, which was why I kept my voice to a low murmur.

Ulfric glanced down at me. "If you would have ran, you wouldn't be in a position for him to strike you now, would you?" he asked, his dark voice almost sinful. I could feel Ralof laughing silently, his shoulders shaking as his chest rumbled under my thighs. "Will you run now, little one?" my lover asked.

I huffed and puffed, doing the best impression of a child I could; which wasn't hard really, I was the master of the pouty lip and puppy eyes. "Fine," I said, gasping again as Ralof put me down, hardly even slowing his pace as he shot off into the distance. "Like a frickin' puppy, I swear." I sighed, rolling my eyes as Ulfric raised a brow and looked at Ralof. He opened his mouth. "Alright, alright, I'm running, I'm running, keep your hair on." I took off, my pace faltering as I got used to being on my legs again. Once I'd got my stride, I darted through the snow, my years as a runner coming into play. I wasn't in top shape like I used to be, and hadn't danced for years, but I still had some stamina in me. My legs pounded, my stride long to account for the deep drifts. It got easier as we reached the road again, our paces smoothing out until we ran, three abreast our boots pounding the cobbled stones.

I took in the sights as we ran, from rabbits bounding away, white against white as they saw us, to a gray fox slipping between two ferns, hiding in the shadows, its eyes wary on our retreating figures. I saw a deer or two, one with antlers bigger than I was tall, its proud head turning to watch us pass. Skyrim really was a beautiful place, full of strange sights, like cat people and strange troll things that both men had been wary of. We'd crept past the overhang in the rocks, not alerting the creature eating a deer.

I think, if I had to choose one sight I never wished to have seen, it would have been the spider. We'd been running for hours, my legs aching and sore, darkness falling to twilight. The sky, god the sky was so beautiful, two giant moons hanging in the inky depths, stars glimmering around them, too many to count. Colors, some I could never even have imagined swirled over the vista, and I knew not even the greatest of artists could capture them all and do them justice. I felt awed that I'd been given the gift of seeing it, so awed in fact, it took a moment to register that I was falling, something smacking me in the back.

My chest hit the cobble, knocking the wind from me as I rolled, fearing another wolf attack. I shouted hoarsely to Ulfric and Ralof, having fallen behind a little, screaming as eight legs entered my vision. Glaring at me with eight hate-filled black eyes, scuttling on legs holding a grotesque, bulbous body, was a spider bigger than an average car. It hissed, spitting at me, coating me in goop that made me instantly feel ill and weak, green mist floating around my head. I scrambled back, watching on in horror as the two men charged, hacking the hairy beast with their swords, cutting at its legs, trying to stop its advance.

_Why does everything in this place want to eat me_? I thought in a daze, crying out as its fang scraped my leg, only to be dragged back by Ulfric's strength, his grip on its back leg making it falter and turn, hissing more goop at him, trying to dislodge the snarling jarl. Ralof jumped onto its back, stabbing it in huge downwards thrusts with his sword, spilling greenish yellow blood all over the snow. I rolled to my feet, weakness in every movement, trying to get my hands to cooperate with me and unhook my bow.

_Aim for its head,_ a voice inside me whispered, that voice I knew and yet couldn't name. I stood, legs braced, string taut against my cheek, the feathers brushing my lips as I drew, waiting, bated breath, holding . . . holding . . ..

_There_!

I loosed the arrow as the beast leaped for me, Ralof toppling from its back. My arrow flew, piercing its eye making the spider rear back in pain. My second bolt slammed into its head, missing the soft eyes to punch into the cranium, a hollow thud reaching my ears as its legs caved in, curling around itself as if by magic. I wasn't done, the blood on my lover and friends arms from its scratches filling me with . . . fire. I raised my hands, flames coating my fingers, harmless to me, but as I sent them forward, using the last of my strength, I burned it, the hairs hissing as they melted away leaving only blistered, angry red flesh underneath.

* * *

_Beep. Beep. Beep._

I could hear voices, but to be honest, I wasn't inclined to open my eyes and see who was muttering, refusing to even move when the furious whispers became rage filled shouts._ I gives a fuck, I'm warm,_ I thought, snuggling further down into my bed. I didn't know who it was, and didn't really care, I was floating in feathery softness damn it, and I wasn't giving up that luxury for anyone.

"How is she responding to the new medication? Any change?"

_Meds?_

"Nothing I've seen and the night shift didn't record anything either. Other than the spikes in her readings, no change." Papers rustled, soft huffs of breath marking the turning of pages.

"How is the therapy working?" A male spoke now, footsteps bringing him closer.

More rustling, followed by clearing of throats. "It's not, Doctor Reid. Her brain waves show those spikes of activity, but she is so far unresponsive to everything we've tried. Her medication was boosted, but still no change. It's as if she's not even here." Anxious tones filled the female voice, making me wonder if she was scared of this 'Doctor Reid.'

"I want to examine her, then she's to be taken to the lab," the male said, murmurs of assent following his orders. "Head injuries like this have to be treated carefully, who knows what nightmare she's trapped in." A ragged sigh left the male. "Damn war."

_War?_

"Doctor, how is he?" the female asked softly. "How is Commander Shepard?"

Doctor Reid hushed the woman, their voices lowering as they passed my room, out of my hearing range. I wondered who Commander Shepard was, and what war he'd been fighting . . . I couldn't remember, and trying did nothing but make my head hurt even more. I wanted to move now, but for some reason, my body just wouldn't respond. I sucked in a breath, but trying to open my mouth, but something stopped me, something was down my throat, choking me, cutting off what little breath I could get.

My pulse spiked, sending machines in the room screaming in alarm, my fingers twitching as I tried to stop the suffocation._ Help me, please, I can't breathe_ . . .. My thoughts became clouded as stars danced behind my eyelids, numb pins and needles spreading from my chest outward, coating my arms and legs. _Please._

Doors slammed, hands moving to pin me down. More alarms screamed as my body bowed from the bed of its own accord.

"Biotic energy readings are rising!"

Pain shot through my chest, a silent scream rising in my throat, unable to get out. My back cracked as my chest lifted, a snap of energy left me and I slumped back down, darkness descending once more.

"She's coding!"

_Beep, beep, beep._


	5. Kings and Secrets

"Wake up, little one."

I shook my head, the strange dream about doctors and suffocation making me want to hide from my lovers whispered voice. "I don't wanna," I muttered, pulling the covers over my head. Something poked me through the covers, making me slip one hand out, waving it in an attempt to get a little more sleep. My fingers met warm, bare skin. I peeked out, my eyes half closed, looking at a very shirtless Ulfric. "Um . . .." I stammered, pulling my hand back.

Ulfric sighed, capturing my fingers between his and gently putting them back on his chest. "Little one, come on. You have to get up. I have drawn a bath for you," he whispered, hissing slightly as my nails scratched gently on his chest. "But if you do that, it'll end up cold." He bent, capturing my lips and slipping between my body and the covers, only a pair of leather pants keeping his skin from mine.

I returned his kiss, my hands tracing his shoulders, feeling the muscles ripple in response to my touch. Groaning, I wrapped my legs around him, arching up as his large body ground against mine, banishing the cobwebs of sleep from my mind. I bit his lower lip, purring as he growled, savoring the sweet sting as he did it back, his hands moving to cup my breasts. My back arched again as he brushed the tips, nothing impeding his impatient fingers.

"I need you," he panted, his voice strained, his eyes dark with desire. I groaned as his hands moved between us, unfastening the laces holding his pants up. "Mine," he growled once he was free, thrusting into me in one slick motion. I wasn't ready, but I didn't care, I needed him just as much. He stayed still, letting me get accustomed, reading my body like no one had ever done before.

"Ulfric," I cried, needing him to move, pleading with him to make me shatter as only he could. He began to move, my cries urging him on. There was nothing tender about our coupling, only the slap of flesh and the growls of two people so desperate for each other the world ceased to matter. I bit his neck as I came, marking him as he had me, my teeth sinking into his skin, his shaft thickening as he too reached ecstasy, my name falling from his lips.

Panting, we curled up together, both unable to move. He kissed my neck softly. "Did I hurt you, little one?" he asked, his voice husky and slightly sleepy. His dark eyes met mine under the covers as he moved, rolling to his back, me across his chest.

Sprawled there, I let my cheek rest against the pounding of his heart in his chest. "No, you didn't hurt me," I whispered, nuzzling the coarse hair that covered his skin. "You didn't," I told him more firmly when he huffed a little, a note of concern. "But I think I could use that bath now." I giggled as he stroked my sides and hips, the tickle of his fingers making me squirm. I sighed in contentment as his hand moved from my ticklish spots to run down my back to cup my rear.

"How are you feeling?" he asked after several moments of silence His lips brushed my temple, mussing my bed hair even further. "I feared you wouldn't wake, despite my healers assurances." At his words, I blinked, looking around. I'd been so focused on him, I hadn't even noticed we were not in the dreaded snow.

"Where are we?" I asked, taking in the dark stone and wood surrounding me. The room should have been cold by any rights, considering the room was made of marble, but it felt surprisingly warm. Lifting my head a bit, I soon figured out why. A huge fireplace, built into the rock took up most of the main wall, a roaring fire pouring out heat, bathing the room in a buttery glow. Rustic wooden furniture dotted the room, but it was the massive four-poster bed I lay in that dominated. "This is not a cave," I said stupidly, a little taken aback by the place.

He chuckled, sitting up and pulling me into his lap. Our lips met for a second, before he pulled back. "This is my home. You are in the Palace of Kings," he told me. "And now, you will bathe in the bath of kings." He chuckled, kicking off his trousers and picking me up, carrying me to the large bath in front of the fire.

I blinked at it, wondering how long it had taken to fill, considering I couldn't see any pipes and a few buckets of steaming water lay beside it. I looked back up into his face, registering what he'd said. "Palace of Kings? Does that mean . . .. Wait, are you a king?" I asked, suddenly feeling the need to bow or something. _Please tell me I didn't sleep with a king on the first day of knowing him . . .. Oh crap._

Ulfric must have read my face, because he laughed. "There is no shame in our love, little one. I was as helpless to resist as you were." He slowly lowered me into the water, giving me time to get used to the heat. He chuckled at my little sighs and whimpers of contentment, settling me and lying me back against the sloped edge. "Now, let me bathe you."

I watched as he picked up a cloth and a bar of what looked to be home milled soap, dipping them both into the water before lathering up the first. Once a thick, white cloud of bubbles coated his hands and the cloth, he gently gripped my arm, slowly washing away the days of travel from my skin, adorning each inch of my pale skin with soap until I was whiter than a ghost. Slightly embarrassed to have a king washing me, I blushed, watching his dark head as he focused on my fingers.

"I can bathe myself," I reminded him gently, almost purring as he kneaded the palms of my hands. "But . . . gah, that's a weak spot," I informed him, my hands always being the most sensitive area on my body. His slight growl had my eyes opening, not having even realized they'd closed in pleasure.

"You look beautiful like this, with the firelight bathing you. I never want to stop touching you, pleasuring you, making you mine," he whispered, his hand slipping beneath the water to my core, his lips capturing mine as he plunged into me, making me buck against his hand. I wanted him already, my body needy for him, craving him like it craved my next breath. His mouth left mine, stealing my breath as he kissed his way down my body, nipping my skin.

"Again?" I asked, parting my thighs, not knowing how he had the energy. I mean, don't get me wrong, I wasn't complaining, but I wasn't as young as I used to be. My mild protest was cut off by his growl and I was pulled from the water to straddle him.

"I want you always, little one," he groaned, his hands roaming my wet and soapy body, cupping my high breasts and kneading them. "Please." His whispered word had me panting, the need in his eyes matching mine. I sank down on him, taking him inch by inch, until he groaned, capturing my hips and slamming home. "Gods."

I began to move, slowly, building the heat between us, the fire bathing us both as we made sweet love on the fur rug before the hearth. My body was claimed by him, his hands touching every inch, mine doing the same to him. I didn't know what it was, but something called to me, some sirens song that made me crave him, need to touch him, be with him. I would have normally shyed against it, my dominant nature battling the claiming, but I couldn't resist.

He called my name, sending me soaring as we came together for the second time, this more powerful than the last, his hands bruising my hips, mine cutting into his upper arms as I tried to hold back my scream of pleasure. We thrust together, both shattering at the same time, falling into one anothers embrace. I closed my eyes, savoring the feel of his heavy arms looping my back, tracing the bumps of my spine.

"Now, we must get dressed, or I won't be able to let you leave this room," he chuckled an hour or so later, both of us napping in each others arms, content to laze before the flames. "I want to show you my home, your home." His voice held meaning I didn't understand, something dark and deep, a promise I couldn't see.

I looked up, my head feeling heavy and sleep filled. "My home?" I asked, not sure I'd heard right. "What do you mean?" My own voice was tentative, hesitant and quiet. I met his dark eyes, searching, seeking the answer in the unfathomable depths.

He cupped my cheek. "I want you to stay with me here, be by my side," Ulfric replied, his thumb skating over my lips. "I know we have only known one another for a short time, but I can feel deep in my soul that you belong to me, as I belong to you. Say yes little one, tell me you will be my queen when I win the war against the imperial empire. Fight beside me, for my people, let them love and adore you like I do." A strong sense of magic filled his words, and in that moment, I realized his power, the reason pup followed him so loyally, the Khajiit bowed to him and my heart belonged to him. He believed, so deeply, cared so much, people were drawn to him like moths to flames.

I only prayed I wouldn't be burned. "Would you be mad if I said can I think about it?" I asked softly. "I mean, it's only been three days, right?" I didn't know how long I was out, but judging from the fact my leg wound was only a scar now, it had been some time; then again, these people had magic potions that could mend broken arms, so what the hell did I know?

Ulfric stroked my cheek. "No, I understand," he said gently, bending to kiss my forehead. "I have you some new armor, something stronger than fur armor, but not as heavy as leather. It takes time, to build stamina enough to bear the weight, but as you get stronger, we can get you heavier gear." He helped me to my feet, moving me over to an ornate wardrobe, before opening the doors. "Here, try this on."

He handed me several pieces of armor, slightly heavier than before, the lighter, greenish tone more flattering than mud brown as I put it on; as well as more supportive. I shrugged into it, tying the hidden laces and buckles, tugging the bodice up and into place. Once I was ready, I looked up at him.

"What do you think?" I asked shyly, a blush spreading up my chest and neck to color my cheeks. My generally boisterous nature and 'No fucks will be given attitude' had faded away in the privacy of his room. I felt shy, almost vulnerable now, relying on instinct and relationship experience that to be honest . . . _not my strong point._

"The fit seems almost made for you," he said, inclining his head. He captured my hand, placing a gentle kiss on the back of it, before leading me from the room into a dark corridor.

"Okay, totally got a creeper vibe going on here," I muttered, the slick walls giving me the chills. "All we need now is a dude in a cult ro- Oh, see, there he is. Now we're dead." I waved my hand in the general direction of a really creepy dude leching his way over. I could almost hear the heavy breathing and thoughts about stringing us up like some puppet dolls or something.

Ulfric suppressed a chuckle, nudging me. "That's my court wizard, Wunnferth the Unliving," he whispered, nodding his head.

"Yes, I'm a powerful wizard, and no, I won't put on a magic show," the wizard said, his voice almost cracking with age, like a musty book lost in the back of a library, opened by eager hands, protesting with every syllable. "Jarl Ulfric, I trust your . . . friend is recovered." He posed it almost like a question, the false polite tone forced and slightly disgusted.

Ulfric stiffened, his whole body going rigid. "Wunnferth, you have been in my service for many years, my friend, do not test that bond now," was all he said, his voice almost . . . dark. His hand captured mine again, a symbol of his support. "Little one, this is going to be your mentor," he said to me, his voice softening as he looked down at me.

"Mentor?" I asked, tilting my head, before looking back at the creepy guy. I studied him as he studied me, two people almost dancing around one another. His hand came up, a ball of fire in the palm. "Um . . .."

"Do not fear the flames, child. I was told you used them against one of the spiders that lurk in the woods." He flickered his fingers, making the flames dance as I let go of Ulfric's hand, raising my own to stop inches from them. He almost reverently took my hand, depositing the flame between my fingers. "You have an affinity to fire, child, never fear it, master it, tame it, but never cage it."

My eyes never left the flames, my fingers making it flicker. I felt something inside me, something reaching out to touch them. The flames turned cold, blinking from sight as frost coated my hand. "Um? I didn't do it?" I muttered, shaking the ice away.

"You have an affinity for frost too, this is good. How does the power inside you feel child?" he asked, his creaky voice becoming more animated. "Can you sense it, tell me, does it burn like a flame, or glow like an ember? I must test your strength, see how long you can sustain the magic within you before training, only then will I be able to train you."

_Is it bad that I can totally hear Yoda right now?_

Shaking my head to clear the random, I blinked. "Um, so, do I call you master or something, dude, cause I'm not sure I'm okay with that." I tried to keep my voice deadpan, but I never could get the stiffness right. "Ignore me, I'm not good with people, they normally keep me away from them . . .."

The two men looked at one another, exchanging worried looks. I let out a sigh. "I'm not normal, okay, get used to weird stuff coming out of my mouth, specially when I'm hungry and some dude is making me play with fire while doing the whole Yoda gig." I rolled my eyes. "Okay, for the people that don't speak English, Harry Potter time after dinner, okay?"

Ulfric laughed, a deep belly laugh that echoed around the corridor as the wizard looked slightly lost. "Her belly is empty of meat and mead," he told the old man, only laughing harder as the guy shook his head and hurried off, swishing his skirt and muttering about lack of respect. I could almost hear the 'Get off my lawn.'

"Come little one, let's sate your hunger," my lover said, bringing me under his arm, his fingers cupping the curve of my hip, the gesture both possessive and comforting. "Try to remember the way, so you don't get lost if I'm away from the palace." Ulfric kissed my brow, leading me down more corridors, the thick black doors almost unnoticeable against the darkness. I was pretty lost already, and by the tenth turn, had given up trying to remember.

"Okay, gonna have to draw a map on my hand," I muttered, rubbing my head. Thankfully, Ulfric knew where he was going, because I was getting hungry, and hunger made me grumpy. He led me through a set of huge double doors, pushing them outward into a huge room. A long table lay along the centre, plates piled high with all kinds of foods and drinks, the scents washing over me and making me moan out loud. I looked at Ulfric, my eyes pleading.

"Go, little one," he whispered into my ear, letting me go.

I paused, looking around, noticing for the first time that people were dotted around, all looking at me, their eyes flicking over first me, then Ulfric, judgment and open curiosity on their faces. Ulfric gently nudged my back, waving a hand. The room cleared in seconds, the people offering small bows as they hurried off. Once only two guards were left in the room, I stepped out, like a scared doe, my hands clasped in front of me.

I glanced back at Ulfric, watching him smile indulgently, capturing my hand and leading me to the table. He picked up a plate, loading it with meats, bread, cheese and other things I couldn't name, before taking me to the huge throne at the top of the room. It stood on a raised dias, centre place for all to see, ornate and beautifully carved. I couldn't help but run my fingers over the back, the markings almost certainly the oldest thing in the whole palace.

_Well, except Wunnferth, but I don't think he counts really_. I chuckled as Ulfric sat, looking as if the throne had been made for him alone, regal and grand, his dark eyes meeting mine as he tugged me down to sit in his lap. He nuzzled my cheek, before turning his attention to the plate on the huge arm of the chair. He picked up a slender slice of cheese, bringing it to my lips, his smile almost wicked.

"I can do it myself," I muttered, flicking a glance at the guards. I blushed, something I seem to be doing a lot around him. Letting out a sigh as he just held the morsel in front of my lips, I opened my mouth and took a small bite, chewing happily as he watched on. I should have been embarrassed, well, more than I was, but for some reason, it felt good to have someone want to care for me.

"I know you can, little one, but indulge an old warrior, simple comforts like this are hard to come by in war," he said, his voice soft and tinged with pain. His body seemed to tense a little, but he soon relaxed as I wrapped my arm around his shoulders, my fingers kneading the back of his neck.

I sighed against his temple, wondering when he'd become important to me in the mad dash from Helgen. The pull he had on me terrified me and made me want to explore more, but right then I was content to just sit and feed one another. Our chuckles and giggles grew in volume as he teased me and I teased him, the laughter only getting louder as I shoved some kind of sweet roll into his mouth, littering his fine clothes in crumbs and cream. He growled playfully, making me dart up and run, chased by the lord of the keep.

Once we'd calmed ourselves, decorum returning except for stifled snorts, he asked me if I was ready to face his people. He stroked my cheek as I dealt with the stage fright, waiting until I'd nodded my head, before clicking his fingers. I moved to get up off his lap, but he wrapped his arm around my waist, keeping me against him.

Pup entered the room, his smile jovial, looking happier than I'd seen him since we'd met. Ulfric let me go as I wriggled, eager to see my friend. I bounded over, throwing myself into his waiting arms, his blond hair blinding me as he spun me around, lifting me off my feet.

"Ralof!" I shrieked, my legs flying as we spun, his booming laughter echoing through the room. "Pup! Put me down! People will be able to see up my skirt!" I shouted, my voice full of laughter. He gently lowered me to my feet, his hands on my shoulders, peering down at me before he ruffled my hair.

"And here she is, the great archer, defeater of the eight legged demon that would have surely bested our great Jarl!" he crowed, wrapping his arm around me and bringing me to face the crowd. I could of sworn I smelled wine on his breath, as well as mead, but he wasn't breathing on me so I shrugged it off. I'd kill him later, and not let him use being drunk as an excuse. He waved his arm to the crowd. "I proudly present, Lady Amiee, the Dragonborn!"

My breathing stopped.

The room fell silent.

Ulfric leaned forward.

And then . . ..

The room burst into motion and sound, people rushing forward to meet me, shaking my hand and offering me drinks. They asked me for tales of my adventures, calling for a bard to sing for me, offering gifts and invitations for meals and events . . .. I was overwhelmed, trapped by Ralof's arm and the crowd, struggling to breathe. I drew a breath, instinctive and deep, power rising.

"Don't little one," a voice whispered in my ear. "Control it, hold it, master it." I felt Ulfric's arm replace Ralof's, curling around me as he murmured in my ear, calming my panic and need to shout in the language of dragons. It seethed inside me, my natural hate for crowds and people mixed with the over enthusiastic shouts of people trying to compete with one another for my attention.

Ralof looked over the heads of the crowd, a look of shame and worry on his face. I tried to smile, gritting my teeth behind the fake calm expression. In let people shake my hand, giving vague answers and noncommittal assent to their invitations. I couldn't remember a single name, or who had invited me to what, but when they'd finally dispersed, I felt about ready to pass out.

"Ready for the next round?"

I looked up, my mouth dropping. "There's more?" I asked, slightly horrified.

He nodded, bending his head to kiss me softly, making pup shuffle like a kid catching their parents stealing kisses in the kitchen. "I rule more than twenty people, little one," he whispered against my lips. "But don't worry, we'll be outside, so the guards will keep them at a distance." His thumb stroked my collarbone, his large hands on my shoulders. "Don't worry, I'll keep you safe from the wolves."

"And who keeps me safe from you?" I asked, his wicked smile warning me to not trust him alone. I looked at pup. "You'll guard me from the wicked Jarl, right?" I raised my brow cheekily.

Ralof moved to my side, stiffening up his posture, military awareness falling over him like a cloak. "Yes, my queen!" he barked, only the slight curve of his lips showing me that he was teasing. "I'll protect you with my life, my queen!" I elbowed him in the stomach, hard and swift, chuckling as his breath whooshed from him. "Now what was that for, lass? I was being serious." He looked down at me, his face sad.

"Bullshit," I growled playfully, keeping my gaze on him until he chuckled, the sound bursting from him as he tried to hide it. "Admit it, or I'll hit you again." My elbow primed, I stomped on his foot, ignoring Ulfric who was looking between us as if we were mad.

"Alright, alright, damn it wench, you're too serious," Ralof groaned, hopping a little. He waited until I stepped away, before adding in a whisper I barely heard. "But I meant what I said." His pale eyes met mine, loyalty I didn't understand in their depths. He moved away, leaving me confused as he began to talk to the guards, ordering them to do something I didn't catch.

"I gots me a pup," I muttered, glancing at Ulfric, who had a similar expression of confusion on his face. He met my eyes, his full of something I couldn't name. "What?" I asked gently, stroking the back of his hand in mine.

He shook his head. "You're a siren. You draw people in, make them love you. I knew I was right to choose you to be by my side." He clicked his fingers and a small squirrely looking man came scurrying out of a small door I hadn't noticed, his arms full of fur only to top of his bald head showing. "Come, we're going out." He took a huge black fur coat from him, draping it over his shoulders, before taking the second, this one white and smaller, and wrapping it gently around me.

I snuggled into it, smiling at the man, only getting a squeak and a small bow in return, before following my lover to the huge doors at the bottom of the hall. I took a breath as the guards opened them, closing my eyes for one second, before they fluttered open and I got my first real look at Windhelm.

My cheeks stung from the icy wind and tiny snowflakes that felt more like tiny arrows from their velocity. The warmer winds of Helgen had long since ceased during our journey northward, the sheer cold around me forced my eyes to water. I shivered, dragging up the fur collar as five guards in handsome blue armor marched up, swords and shields ready, helmets with long nose guards hiding their faces. Ralof led them, his bearing strong, that of a commander . . .. _How do I even know that?_

I shook my head, smiling at him as they moved into formation around me and Ulfric. I put my hand in the crook of his arm, accepting my rabbit fur gloves from him and sliding them on. "I'm ready, show me your home," I told him, keeping my breathing shallow so I didn't take in too much cold air at once.

The castle walls loomed high overhead as they passed through the main gates and into the city proper, the old rock walls chipped and covered in snow from the constant cold. The guards patrolling the walls looked to be completely fine with the overbearing cold, looking more bored than anything else. A massive building dominated the front courtyard, and the alleys to either side of their path seemed to lead to the residential areas.

The streets were mucked and muddy where not covered in stone walkways, and while the people were more bundled up than I, they looked like the storm was nothing out of the ordinary.

Ulfric nodded, uttering a few soft words to the guards, before leading the way forward. We began to weave in and out of the fured people, the difference in them all making me blink again, trying to put them into categories. Some were Nords, as I'd been told by both Ulfric and Ralof, but some . . . some were just plain weird. One or two had dark blue skin and long pointy ears, some had yellow skin with similar ears, their eyes varying in color from the lightest gold to the deepest blood red. They walked with a lethal grace that both scared and fascinated me, their heads held high if they had yellow toned skin, and low if blue. It made me wonder why.

Looking at Ulfric, I raised a brow. "What are they?" I asked softly, keeping my voice low incase their pointy ears were like bats or something.

"Elves, little one. High elves are the amber eyed ones, and the ones with blue skin are dark elves," he told me, leading me down some steps, the path sloping. He caught me smoothly as I nearly slipped on the ice, his stride not breaking at all. I wished I wasn't so damn clumsy. It struck at the most stupid of times. "Careful," he whispered, chuckling at my clumsy nature.

I poked him in the ribs. "Do I really need all these guards?" I asked, waving my hand at our silent sentries. "I mean, no one even knows me, why would anyone attack?" I looked around, watching the faces of the people in the streets. "No one but your court knows I'm . . . you know what . . .. Let me go exploring." I pouted my lip at him, my eyelashes fluttering.

He gazed down into my eyes for the longest time. "You will be the death of me, little one, but how can I say no?" He bent his head to capture my lips for a second. "Very well, enjoy yourself, but stay in the city. I don't want to lose you." He reached into his cloak, putting a bag of clinking coins into my hands and nodded to Ralof, how handed me my bow and quiver. "Just in case."

With that said, he left, his guards in formation around him. I watched his retreating form, a smile on my lips. Once he'd left my sight, I bounced a little, turning left and taking off, excited to see what the strange yet fascinating city had to offer. The houses and high walls all had a fairly cozy look about them, smoke leaving the chimneys and giving the air a wood smoke smell. Lots of the people I passed seemed happy enough as well, waving and exchanging brief passing greetings.

After perusing the residential area, seeing the homes and shops, I found myself moving downwards, following a narrow path that led me to the docks. Ice covered huge parts of the waterway along the docks, and workers strode about tieing mooring lines to the single ship moving into port through the narrow lane of un-iced water. The ship resembled something incredibly familiar, tickling my memory.

_Why do I get a strange . . . viking feel? Like some dude is gonna jump off one of those long boats and start setting fire to shit?_

I could hear bells, deep and loud against the sound of the huge river and birds. They seemed to scream their answer to the noise, their wings tucked to their bodies as they swooped down, only to flare at the last second, harrying the water, trying to catch the fish that must have been under the ice.

Walking down the ramp, I kept close to the wall, my fear of water keeping me from going near the edge. My steps shuffled a little, my hands pulling the collar of the coat further up as I shivered, a freezing gust of wind blinding me for a second. I looked around, suddenly feeling very exposed.

"Shit, I promised not to leave the city . . .. Does this count as part of the city?" I mused out loud, backing up to head back into the city proper.

"That it does." A rough and distinctly raspy voice from behind me made me leap out of my skin before black scaly hands closed around my mouth and neck, dragging me backwards and muffling my voice. I kicked and struggled, earning only a few grunts and hisses from the creature behind me.

_Shit!_

A door opened and I was dragged inside, only to be thrown forward into a chair inside a dark wood cabin. The door to the outside slammed shut, cutting out all the light, but for one faded lantern somewhere behind me, making the man that strode toward me hard to see clearly.

"Who the fuck are you?" I gasped as he came into view. I took in the strange . . . thing in front of me, my eyes blinking rapidly as I tried to make sense of what I was seeing. "Mores the point, what the fuck are you?" My voice rose as he hissed at me, his slinking steps bringing him further into the light. The lizard like creature was nearly black all over his shiny scales, with his face covered in bits of bright green among the black. A large fin lined his head from front to back, standing stiff in aggression, like a cat fluffing its fur.

"I don't care to entertain you with guessing games milady. I will ask this one time,: Where is the high king sending the stormcloaks next?" he asked, his hissing voice making me cringe. I looked up at him, my brain refusing to comprehend the creature before me. His eyes grew even more harsh as I kept silent, and he leaned forward to place both hands on the arms of the chair. "Do not play stupid woman. You've been seen in the High Kings company, now tell me where he plans to attack the legion next or I'll-"

The confusion on my face must have been plain as day, because the creature faltered in his threat, cocking his head a little and studying me. I glared at him, leaning forward a little. "Dude, I have no idea what the hell you're talking about, now back the fuck off, you stink to all hell," I growled, trying to hide the tremble in my tone. "Let me go . . .." The last part was whispered, fear overruling my bravado.

His demeanor never changed throughout my tirade as he stared at me thoughtfully. He leaned back off the chair to circle around behind me. I turned my head, trying to keep him in sight, my heart in my throat.

He paced around me, studying me for long moments, before he spoke again. "Normally I would say you are lying, but I think maybe you truly don't know, or you are as dumb as a horker." He paused a minute, as if trying to decide how to proceed. "You know of the war Ulfric wages, yes? Of his Stormcloaks?"

I shook my head. "Not really, he hasn't said much . . .. What's it got to do with you anyway? I mean, he's a king, so? Seriously, are you like the paparazzi or something?" My tone turned accusatory as I kicked out, my booted foot connecting with his shin. "I ain't telling you nothing, fishface."

The creature flinched and hissed again at the kick, but didn't retaliate, instead simply staying out of my reach but seemed to be wary of anything I might do to escape. .

"Then allow me to enlighten you. The high king Ulfric is in rebellion against the empire it has been allied for millennia. I-" The thing paused, obviously torn on how to proceed with me. "I am an agent of the Imperial Legion. It is my job to see Ulfric's cause fail. I know this is not what you want to hear, but your king hides many things from you. Did you know, for instance, that he murdered the former high king? Or that his soldiers kill entire Imperial camps, women and children as well?" He stood in front of me now, eyes alight with anger at the very things he spoke of. "Would it shock you to know, that your big strong king has a racist streak as long as all of Morrowind combined? And that other species such as myself, are forced into menial labor and second class citizenry?"

I thought about the elves in the city, the way they had flinched when looking up at Ulfric. I hadn't even realized it then, that the fear in their eyes could have been more than the kind I would have felt facing a king. "I . . . but he's nice . . . he protected me, stopped the Greybeards from taking me, and when the dragon tried to eat me . . ." I stammered, shaking my head and trying to defend my lover. "Even when I did the shout thingy, he didn't hur- shit . .." _Shit! I shouldn't have said that, fuck . . .._

"A dragonborn? That . . . changes things. The high king kept you from the greybeards for a reason milady. He does not want you to learn the truth of him. The greybeards are known throughout Skyrim for being masters of the shout, teachers and forever a neutral party. No harm would have come to you from the greybeards, of this I am certain."

"But . . . why? I mean, why would he hide me from them if they wouldn't hurt me? He said they taught him, but there was something bad about them . . .." I paused, trying to think, trying to make sense of the confusion his words evoked. "Look, I mean, I don't even know your name, and you're telling me all this shit about Ulfric and expecting me to believe you? Are you taking the piss?" _He's got to be lying . . .. Hasn't he?_

The man blinked in shock for a moment, before raising an eyebrow at me. "Taking the piss? Sounds painful. Never mind, I don't mind that you don't believe me. I wouldn't expect you to. Only that you learn the truth of matters for yourself, instead of fumbling around blind with a madman." He stepped closer, extending a scaly hand to me. "My name is Sharaak, Captain in the Imperial Legion."

I wanted to let go of his hand as soon as I shook it, the bizarreness of the situation making my head spin. "Um . . . I'm Amiee," I said, tilting my head. "Now, um . . . can you tell me what you are? Are you like the cat people?"

"Uh, cat people? Oh! You mean the khajiit? No, I am an Argonian, from Argonia, in Black Marsh to the south. If I may, you are unlike any other Imperial i have ever seen, where do you hail from?" he asked, his strange eyes alight with curiosity. One of his fingers poked my cheek, almost as if to see if my face was real.

I leaned back. "Well . . . Um . . .. Sharaak . . . I'm not . . . Uh, from around here. I guess you could say I'm from England . . ."_ Is Skyrim on earth? Fucked if I know_ . .. "Of uh, Earth . . .."

". . .Right. Well lady Amiee, I ask only that you not tell the high king of my presence here, and to seek the truth of his nature for yourself. Perhaps, in time, you will see his cause for what it truly is. Should you wish to speak with me again, I'll be here on the docks until spring. I am entrusting you with my very life, lady Amiee, if Ulfric learns of my presence, I will die within the hour." He walked to the door and held it open for me, the cold wind sailing in through the doorway. "Please, take care, Milady."

I got up, even more confused now than before. He held the door wider, seeming to want to give me a chance to pass without feeling uncomfortable. As I looked around, I blinked, noticing him gone already. The door slammed shut, locking me out in the cold. I shivered, walking back to the city, my head full of random thoughts, paranoia and god knows what else.

_Is he lying to me?_

_Is Ulfric?_

_It does seem a bit odd . . .. I mean, he didn't really want me to be alone . . .._

_How do I find out without having the lizard man killed by accident?_

I looked up, not realizing where I'd been walking. I was back in the huge center part of the city, infront of a massive place called Candlehearth Hall. Stood in front of the building, backed by huge doors, open to let people in, was a dark elf woman and two nords, aggression rolling off the men as they glared at the elf. I started forward, my mouth opening as he raised his hand to slap the woman.

"Yol toor shul!"

Fire left me, my breath whooshing from my chest, power filling the air. The male screamed, flames licking over his clothes. He threw himself to the floor as the elf looked at me, then him, before dashing off and vanishing into an alleyway.

_Oops. _

I coughed, smoke escaping my mouth in a little puff. The man that had been stood with the woman's attacker helped put him out, dragging his friend away with horror on his face.

"Well, that's a new one," I said weakly, feeling suddenly tired. I was about to follow, to see if he was okay, when suddenly several guards surrounded me, swords raised.

"Stop in the name of the Jarl. You have committed crimes against Skyrim and her people," the leader of the guards said, his swords gleaming as he strode forward. "You will come with us now."

"To where?" I asked, backing away, wincing as a sword poked me in the back. "I didn't do it, well . . . I did, but I didn't mean to . . .. He was gonna hit her, and I . . . where are you gonna take me? To Ulfric?"

"The Jarl doesn't deal with petty criminals mage, you will be taken to the dungeon, and tried for your crimes," he said, coming closer to me. "Now, move."

I looked around, fear filling me. "But . . . No. I . . . I'm not going to prison, go fuck yourself. He was in the wrong, I didn't mean to set him on fire!" He raised his sword, hilt first, about to knock me out.

"Fus ro dah!" He flew back, slamming into the wall. I covered my mouth. "Oh crap."

I didn't mean to do it, but come on, some guy was about to knock me out for an accident. I didn't think, I just ran, dodging swords as they came at me, my smaller size for once a godsend as they began to chase me. I darted out of the huge doors a guard was trying to close, hearing it slam behind me. I ran down a long walkway, wincing as arrows bounced off the ground behind me. Looking back, I saw them on the walkways, more coming every second as the doors began to open.

"Dovahkiin!"

The air vibrated again, the same as the last time, sound reaching me from miles away. "Not now!" I screamed, falling down some steps at the end of the walkway. I cried out as my hands scraped the floor, my chest heaving. Looking left and right, I caught sight of a stable. "In for a penny," I gasped, charging towards it, scrambling onto the back of the first horse I saw. The cream colored beast reared back, not that I could blame it, I must have looked like a mad woman.

"Please don't throw me," I begged, throwing my leg over its back, my feet in the stirrups. It'd been years since I last rode a horse, but I think I could still manage. "Go," I told it, nudging it in the sides, my hands taking up the reins. One of the stable hands tried to stop me, but I wheeled the horse around, letting it rear up, my thighs keeping me stable.

Once its hooves connected with the ground, I lowered myself forward over its neck, letting it have its head. The huge creature dashed off, its hooves pounding the ground, as it galloped, its neck extended, froth flying from its mouth. Wind seared and burned my face, my bow slamming into my back as I held on, guiding it over the terrain with just my thighs, feeling it move in sync with my directions. The shouts from the city faded behind me as I followed the river, heading in no real direction.

"Well, I can't go back, and I have nowhere forward . . . fuck my life," I muttered to myself as I slowed my stolen horse to a canter. "And whenever I shout, creepy voices start telling me off. What the fuck do I do now? I wish Pup was here . . . he'd know what to do." I sighed, looking around. Trees and snow, that was pretty much all I could see, other than a river running beside me. I glanced up at the mountain to my left, then back to the city. "Can't go left, can't go right, can't go back so . . . guess we're going this way." I spoke more to the horse than to myself that time, the beasts snorts oddly comforting.

Nudging it with my heels again, we took off at a light trot, only the sound of rushing water and hooves on cobble providing my soundtrack. "So, you're gonna need a name," I said after a while of pretty much nothing. "Then again, if I name you, I'll want to keep you." I let out a small sigh. "I'm not a bad person, never stole anything in my life, I mean, I wouldn't have done it if they weren't shooting at me," I said, trying to justify myself.

I stroked the mare's mane, the coarse hair running through my gloved fingers. "It's not my fault you know, someone put a flid in my way." I rolled my eyes. "I'm talking to a horse . . ... This is not going well, is it?" I asked rhetorically. It was pretty obvious I was in trouble. I had no furs other than my armor, the coat having fallen off when I fell over, no food, nothing to use as a shelter and most importantly, no idea where the fuck I was going.

"So, Styx, where are we going?" I asked my horse, trying to enthuse my words with some kind of positivity. "Reckon there's a pub or something around here?" I rolled my shoulders, my back bruised from the bow slamming into it over and over as we'd left the city. "Ulfric is gonna be so mad. I hope he doesn't hurt anyone."

My mind turned to what the argonian had said. "Great, now I'm thinking about a damn lizard-man and believing him over the guy who saved my life. Well done, Amiee, gold fucking star. You need to go back, let them arrest you and speak to Ulfric, say sorry for setting someone on fire . . . yeah, cause that's gonna go well. 'Hey babe, sorry about all the drama, you know, the dude with the third degree burns . . totally deserved it' Yep, lead balloon comes to mind."

_Stop talking to yourself!_

I stopped Styx, ignoring the unhappy huff she made, turning her head with the reins. "Come on, it won't be that bad. What's the worst that could happen? Then again, they nearly cut off my head for something I didn't even do, so maybe the worst is being without my head." I gulped, rubbing my neck. "Knowing my luck, Spyro's dad won't be around to stop it next time." I looked back at the city several miles back, just a dot on the horizon, shivering in the wind as more snow began to fall. "Bloody great."


	6. Bandits

"You ever get the feeling you're being watched, Styx?" I whispered, the hair on the back of my neck standing on end. I slowly took my bow from my back, notching an arrow, but keeping it pressed down to my thigh. The horse snorted, prancing a little from side to side, its head bobbing up and down. "Yeah, me too."

"Well now, what do we have here men?"

"See, fucking knew it," I groaned as several figures slowly crept from the trees. They ranged in size and race, the worst and probably the most terrifying being a giant, shirtless green man, bearing a huge hammer in both hands. The speaker, a rat-faced male with dark coffee skin leered at me.

"Lost pretty girl?" he asked, his dark eyes alight with greed. His teeth gleamed, a smile on his face, his turbaned head proud. He nodded to one of his companions, a nord male about the size of pup. The guy advanced, causing Styx to huff and back up a little. "Take the reins." A hand shot out and I raised my bow, pulling back the string.

"Don't even think about touching my horse," I snapped, the arrow ready to impale him if he took another step. Styx froze, seeming to know instinctively not to move. The male grinned, stepping forward again. I loosed the arrow, feeling the string snap back, the bolt flying towards him and sending him into the river behind him with a twang of my bow. He screamed, only to be cut off as the current carried him away. "Oh fuck, I didn't mean to kill the dude."

The leader growled, his stance changing from open to aggressive. "Balak, take her down!" he shouted to the green man. I tried to get another arrow from the quiver, but he was too fast for one of his size and his hammer began to fall. Time slowed, freezing in place, my mind going white with fear. Styx whinnied, rearing back . . . taking the hammer blow to the chest.

I screamed.

Styx screamed.

I fell.

The horse fell on top of me.

My head hit the ground, figures fading in and out of existence around me as they circled like vultures, laughter and jeers reaching my ears as if through water. I blinked up at them, my body from waist down crushed by my dead horse. "No . . .." I groaned, trying to get enough air into my chest to shout, to push them away. "Please . . .." I felt hands on my skin, dragging me by the hair out from under the horse, a scream ripping from my lips as chunks of my hair was pulled from my head. My hands scratched the ones dragging me, trying to get them off to no avail.

"Get off me fucktard. I swear to god, I am going to fucking skin you!" I shouted. Pain made my voice break as the one holding me shook me around like a rag doll, grunting and laughing as he threw me at the feet of the rat-faced man. "You'd better let me go! Ulfric will fucking fry you!"

"Oh ho! We've got a little stormcloak here men, one of the great kings little whores." He sneered, spitting on my face. "Lets have our fun with her, then send her back to him, a gift from the BloodWolves to the racist king." A hand reared back as I was dragged to my knees, slapping my face and snapping my head to the side. My hands flickered with magic, fire coating them instinctively, but another slap cut off the ebb and flow of the flames, pain breaking my connection with the power inside me. I snarled at him, my lip bleeding, coating my tongue in copper tasting blood.

He raised his hand again, only the blow didn't fall. A look of surprise spread across his face as he looked down, a huge knife protruding from his chest. His hand reached up to touch it, but his eyes rolled back in his head as his legs crumpled and he fell, revealing a . . . khajiit.

"Why do you kneel there, mage? Stand and fight. This one will protect your back," he said, his voice smokey and purring as he pulled me to my feet and to his side. He handed me a knife, his black and grey fur and armor gleaming in the weak sun.

I trembled, looking inside myself for the well of power, dragging it to the surface, my other hand flaring with a ball of fire. "There's like, loads of them, unless you hadn't noticed, and the big pea over there has a hammer bigger than I am." I told him, pain making me snap a little as the five men advanced towards us, swords, axes and hammers ready. We slowly backed away, keeping them at a distance. "Um, what now?"

"This one will deal with the Orc and the heavy armored one. You roast the others with fire," he purred, a fanged smile crossing his face. He crouched, muscles rippling beneath the armor before leaping at the orc. Ducking a horizontal swing from the giant war hammer, his fur covered fist slammed home into his opponent's jaw.

I didn't wait another second, stepping back again as the three light armored men circled around the battling cat and orc, grins on their faces. My magic swelled within me again, and my mouth opened. "Yol toor shul!" Fire burst from me as I let loose a huge wave of flames from my hand, catching the first with the shout and the second with my magic making them both scream and writhe on the ground. The cat looked back at me for a second, his eyes going wide at my shout. I shrugged as if to say 'What you gonna do?" and turned to the last one.

Not having the energy for another shout, I backed away again, not letting him in close, the cats knife in one hand and for some god knows why reason, ice in the other. "Yeah, ice him to bits, that's effective." I threw the magic, blinking in shock as it passed over my hand, not a wave like the fire, but a giant fricking icicle. "I just killed a guy with an icicle?" I asked, looking down at my hand, then at the man impaled and pinned to a tree. "Fuck yeah donkey?"

I felt weak and dizzy as I turned to watch the cat fight, wondering if I should help. I threw a few smaller icicles at the heavy armored man coming towards the cat, keeping him back so he could kill the orc. It looked like the cat was dancing with the orc, ducking and sidestepping massive hammer blows by inches. The orc on the other hand looked a mess, blood streaming from his mouth and face, one of the large 'teeth' snapped off. The cat gripped the shaft of the axe, jamming his palm up into the orc's elbow and snapping his arm up.

"Oh, that's a little bad ass!" I squeaked, not sure if I should feel sorry for pea man, or not. My sore scalp said not, so I just kept throwing icicles at the other, my power waning. "Might wanna hurry up, kitty, I'm having trouble keeping fucktard number two off ya!"

The orc roared in pain, desperately swinging his remaining hand blindly, the cat sweeping low under it and rolling behind the green giant. In one swift motion he drew another knife from somewhere hidden and lanced the orcs jugular. Pushing him over, blood fountaining out on to the ground. "This one is called Qa'ren, not kitty," he called back, dashing over and kicking the armored bandit in the back of the knee. The howl was quickly silenced as Qa'ren swiftly snapped his neck. He looked up at me, one white eye and one amber eye taking me in. "Is the mage happier now Qa'ren has killed the bandit?" he asked, his voice soft and almost . . . pleased and sarcastic?

I tilted my head to the side. "Um . . .." I stammered, looking at the bodies, from the burnt to the impaled, to the destroyed. "I think I did most of the work, but yeah, bit better. Thanks." I looked at my horse, slowly walking over to kneel beside her. "Oh, Styx, you brave thing," I whispered, bending my head to press my hands to her neck. "I'm sorry." My fingers wove through her mane, sorrow filling my chest.

I could hear soft noises behind me, the cat doing something, but right then I was too sad to care. I'd gotten the beautiful creature in front of me killed and it hurt, knowing that it was my fault. I sobbed quietly for a little while, my forehead pressed to her neck, until my body began to shake, cold and shock as well as exhaustion and fear taking their toll. I scrambled to my feet, nearly falling over as my numb legs took my weight. Looking around, I spotted the cat looking through the pockets of the bandits.

"What are you doing kitty?" I asked curiously, watching as he held something up only to toss it aside when it failed to pass whatever standards he had.

"Qa'ren is looking for coin, we will need it if we are to get a room each at Nightgate inn," he said, holding up the warhammer before shaking his head and tossing it to the side. "Why are you out here by Forsaken cave? This place is not a good place for women to ride alone."

I stepped towards him, hesitant and unsure. "What do you mean we? I mean, I'm grateful you saved my life 'n' stuff, but I'm not gonna be going with you . . .. I have to go . . .." I looked around, not having a clue where I was, the snow falling to thick for me to see Windhelm anymore. ". . .Somewhere," I finished lamely. "Where are we?"

"South of Forsaken Cave. Qa'ren assumed you were travelling that way and was offering assistance," he said in a very 'matter of fact' way. " Unless Mage would prefer to travel alone through bandit country." I could almost hear his eyes rolling, though his back was to me.

"Look, kitty, just cause you're badass with a knife it doesn't mean you can be a sarcy tosser, kay?" I grumbled, crossing my arms and shivering. "I guess I don't really have a choice, I'm not gonna be able to get back to Ulfric in this anyway. How far is the inn?" I asked him, trying to warm myself by rubbing my bare arms. _Note to self, hide armor is not designed for cold_.

"A few leagues, perhaps an hours travel if we move fast. Two if we do not," he said, "What is mage's name? Qa'ren does not wish to keep referring to you simply as mage."

"Amiee, my name is Amiee," I told him, my teeth chattering. I looked down at Styx again, before kneeling and rooting through the bags on the side of the saddle. I found a small bag of food, which I threw to Qa'ren, some coin and a large blanket, rolled up into a small tube. It wasn't very thick, and from the size, I'd say it was a horse blanket for stabling, but it was better than nothing. Wrapping it around my shoulders, I nodded to the cat, following him as he led me out of the trees. "So, um, what were you doing in bandit country?" I asked him, trying to make conversation.

"Qa'ren is a traveller, making my way through Skyrim to gain fame and reputation for Kahjiit," he purred, slowing his stride to match mine as we walking along the path that wound through the foliage. "What were those words Amiee shouted. They set the bandit on fire better than destruction magic."

I glanced over at him, wondering if I could trust him. I mean, he'd saved my life yes, but most people seemed to get antsy when they found out about my power.

"Dovahkiin!" The air shook again, coming from the south, the echoes bouncing over rock and tree alike.

"Oh for the love of-" I growled. "Well, I guess there's your answer, but the dudes seem a little late this time," I grumbled, shaking snow out of my hair. "Parently, some beardy guys think they can get chicks up to their mountain by gobbing off every time she defends herself!" The last part was shouted towards the tip of the mountain I could only just see, annoyance filling me. "I'm not a fucking dog."

Qa'ren was silent for a while, "If Amiee is Dragonborn then you should answer the greybeards. They train the Dragonborn, guide them to their destiny," he said finally.

"There's more like me?" I asked, pulling my blanket around myself. "We should start a support group, seriously, I mean, who the fuck starts shouting like kings for their jesters. I ain't a damn dog that's gonna go running when summoned. If they want me, they can bloody well march their happy asses down here." I was in full rant mode now, channelling my sister Bronzey in full force. I hated being summoned, dragged into shit like a child for chastisement.

"Qa'ren only knows of legends. There have been many Dragonborn over the ages. They are the descendents of Akatosh, born with the blood of dragons. They speak the language of the dragons and use their Thu'um to defend the realms of Tamriel," Qa,ren answered, his ears twitching slightly as he spoke. "Greybeards guide each Dragonborn through their training, teaching them the ways of the Thu'um. They would not call upon Amiee if they did not know who you are."

"The problem is them calling me," I bitched, kicking up a clod of ice as I walked. "I don't wanna have some weird destiny thingy, I just wanna go home." I looked around. "This place, I don't even know. I mean, dragons 'n' shit . . . we don't have those." A harvester came to mind, but my mind pushed it aside, some block falling back into place, something I just couldn't push past. "I mean, being nearly eaten by spyro's dad, nearly having my head cut off, having a huge spider try and feed me to its millions of babies, guards shooting at me for accidentally setting some bloke on fire . . .. It's like a crack house gone mad here. Y'all are fucking nuts." I kicked the snow again, taking out my frustrations on it. "I get with this guy, you know, he's all super cool and sweet, guess what, he turns out to be some king, who not only rules like, a billionty people, but guess what, he's the goddamn bad guy."

"It sounds as if you have had quite an adventure," Qa'ren said, attempting to cut the flow of words.

I rolled my eyes. "Don't even get me started, I mean, seriously." I waved my hand at my armor. "You should have seen what they put me in, no support for Skyrim women, like my boobs were aching after all that running. Then, I get all poisoned and Mr Yoda starts his 'We will train you in the force,' thing, now I'm glad I think I know the truth, cause I don't want any of that bad force juju, you get me?" I asked, looking at him. I didn't give him chance to speak, even though he opened his mouth to. "Then some fish man tries to interrogate me like some bad 80's cop, only without the hair, I haven't had energy drinks in days, I'm craving pizza and you know what, I just want to punch someone in the face." I paused. "Oh, and don't forget the bandits that decide to pop up like a teens erection when he catches sees his first pair of boobs."

"From your story it appears that the only luck you have really had is coming across Qa'ren," he said, his lips curling around his fangs as he laughed. "Qa'ren dreads what might happen if he give you a stamina potion. The inn is not far, there Amiee can rest while Qa'ren barters for our rooms." He looked almost gleeful as he jingled the coin purse he had taken from one of the dead bandits.

I looked over at him again, my inner rant cut off. "Kitty, if you needed money for the room, you should have said, I gots us covered," I said, reaching to my waist and throwing the large money bag Ulfric had given to me over. "And what's a stamina potion?"

Qa'ren caught the large bag, the weight dragging his hand down a little, "This is a lot of coin, Amiee. A good thing the bandits only found your looks to be enticing or Qa'ren might have found you dead," he said, "Qa'ren would feel uncomfortable to have his room paid for him. He is not used to kindness from other travellers."

My heart went out to the cat at his words. "We'll, I ain't your normal traveller, so don't worry about it," I said, looking through the snow as a building rose from the white. "Please tell me that's the place, and I still wanna know what a stamina potion is, is it like energy drink?" My breath sent up a little cloud of smoke as the temperature steadily dropped, making me envious of his fur.

"A stamina potion grants the user new strength, draining weariness from their muscles," Qa'ren finally answered reluctantly. "And yes, Amiee is not like most travellers. None would ever have trusted a Khajiit enough to throw them their coin purse at them. Most believe all Khajiit to be thieves, cut-purses." His voice held an almost sorrowful tone, as if he felt shame.

"Well, you saved my life, so keep it, I don't mind," I said, shrugging. I'd never been one to care about money, for me it was meant to be given, not hoarded. I liked to make people happy and help where I could, it was just my nature. "Note to self, buy a stamina potion as soon as I can," I said to myself, pushing open the door of the inn and stepping inside. Holding it open, I looked around the small, wooden inn.

Qa'ren followed me inside, his eyes wary and his hand on his hip. He put a hand on my arm, his paws soft and warning. "Amiee should be careful about her connections with the Jarl. Many bandits visit Nightgrove after successful raids. If they find out about it they will attempt to kidnap Amiee." His voice was low, just reaching my ears.

I nodded to show I understood and walked towards the bar, looking at the guy stood behind it. "Hey dude. You got a couple of rooms?" I asked, keeping my tone light despite the scars on his face making me want to run back outside.

He looked up from wiping down his bar, one eye blind, the other piercing me. "Only got one," he growled, putting his hands flat on the wood. His voice was thick and deep, rolling in the typical nord way I was still getting used to. "50 gold and it's yours for the night."

"40," I countered. "And we'll eat and drink here too." I kept my expression calm, my arms crossed over my chest to show I meant business. Bartering for a deal was one of my favorite pastimes. "I drink a lot, by the way."

"Done. Your room is to the left, first door," he said, his face cracking into a grin. "Now, what would you like to drink?"

I looked over at Qa'ren, nodding for him to pay from my purse. "I'll have a pint, or vodka if you've got it," I told the man. "Names uh . . .." Remembering what the cat had said, I coughed to cover my confusion. "Raven."

"This one is Qa'ren," my cat friend said, sliding some coins over the bar. "Qa'ren would like mead, and meat, if possible." He looked over at the fire, walking towards it once a tankard had been passed to him. I watched him for a second, smiling as he almost purred at the fire, his fur rippling as warmth misted away the snow that clung to him.

"So, vodka?" I asked hopefully.

The barman raised his brow. "I am Hadring, and I don't know what vodka is, but I do have Straos M'kai rum, if that helps," he said, taking out a bottle from under the bar. He accepted some more coins, before turning away, leaving me with the bottle.

I winked at him before carrying my bottle over to Qa'ren and sitting on the bench in front of the fire. I sighed as heat washed over me, curling my hair as it dried. Lifting the bottle to my lips, I took a long draft, hissing as it burned all the way down in the way only good, strong spirits could.

"Qa'ren thanks you, Amiee. You have done much for Qa'ren, more than any other traveller. If you ever need the skills of a Khajiit warrior by your side, I would be honored to travel at your side." His words were softly spoken, a strange respect and loyalty in his eyes, much the same as the expression on Ralof's when he looked at me.

I shifted uncomfortably. "Nah, kitty, we're cool. You saved my life and got me here, we're even, kay?" I sipped my drink again, both of us falling into silence, staring into the flames. Time passed slowly, food being consumed in companionable quiet as the night fell and exhaustion began to really set in. Qa'ren paid our tab, before taking me by the arm and leading me . . . rather wobbly to the bedroom.

"I think I'm drunk," I slurred, dropping the empty rum bottle and watching it roll under the bed. I tried to bend to catch it, but ended up face planting into the fur. "Yep, this one be wasted." My voice was muffled, my poor attempt to copy the cats speech almost cringe worthy.

I was helped under the covers by patient hands, little huffs of breath on my neck as he hauled me in, almost throwing me bodily when gentleness failed. I didn't move as the room spun around me, putting my hand on the wall to steady the room. "Dude, shit's moving when it shouldn't," I complained, my voice low and drowsy. "Kitty, tell the room to stop fucking with my head."

"Room stop . . . fucking with Amiee's head," he responded, "Or Qa'ren will stab you with his blade. Does that help, Amiee?" he asked, his tone sarcastic. He let out a few chuffs, little cat laughs that made me giggle.

"In soviet russia the room stabs you!" I bellowed, before holding my head. "Don't. Bloody. Ask," I mumbled as he slipped into bed behind me. He chuffed again, his tail twitching against me. "Kitty, if that tail gets any further up my thigh, I will remove it."

"Qa'ren does not control his tail. It moves as tail sees fit," he purred, shifting under the covers.

"So, you've got a perverted tail? Dude, I'd get that looked at if I was you," I recommended sagely, the whole 'matter of fact' voice I attempted to use thrown off by the slurring. I rolled over, grabbing the thing and holding it tightly in my palm. It was soft, like a blankie. "Soft kitty, warm kitty, little ball of fur, happy kitty, sleepy kitty, purr, purr, purr," I muttered, my eyes closing as I petted his tail.

Qa'ren purred deeply, the sound reverberating throughout his chest. "Qa'ren is content to leave his tail in Amiee's hands." His voice was sleepy, rumbling and low, like I imagine, a cats would be during a fuss, could they speak.

I reached up with my free hand, my tongue between my lips as I tried to focus on his ears, hoping I'd catch the real ones and not the doubles I was seeing. After one or two miss swipes, I caught the soft appendages, scratching softly behind his ears. "You're like a proper cat for a fuss," I told him, petting him.

Qa'ren growled gently, his head leaning back into my hands. His back pressed against me, the purring vibrating through me as he breathed. He rolled over, his tail slipping between my fingers, padding against my chest like a normal cat and nuzzling my neck. I looked down at the rather large paws on my boobs. "Dude, not cool," I grumbled, pulling his hands down to my stomach. "I should roll over and get a back massage out of this deal, but I can't be arsed." I sighed, stroking his ears as I rested my head on the inner part of my arm, warm and far too drunk to do more than fuss my feline friend.

"Feeling better?" I asked, stretching a little against him, trying to get comfy. Sleeping beside what was essentially a huge cat in armor wouldn't be comfortable, but too much rum and fur in my hands had me not caring.

Qa'ren purred more, opening his eyes and realising what he was doing. He pushed back and fell off the bed, landing with a thud. "Qa'ren is sorry for his actions. He has not been . . . fussed ever since he was a child." His voice was low and full of embarrassment, his ears back and whiskers drooped.

He looked so pitiful sat there on the floor, that I reached out and stroked his head. "It's okay, I don't mind. I love to cuddle. Take your armor off, and get back in bed, you've left a draft," I told him, not minding at all. I mean, I used to sleep with my cats all the time, so it wasn't really a problem for me.

He stripped down his armor, before slipping back into bed and curling around me, his tail moving over my waist. I snuggled against him, my eyes closing. "Go sleepy now, Kitty," I mumbled, burying my cheek into the soft fur of his chest. His arms came around me, two travellers comforting one another, friends through circumstance, loyal to one another through shared battle. I sighed. "I think I like having a cat for a friend, you're warm."

"Qa'ren is glad to be considered friend," he murmured. "Qa'ren's coat is always warm. If Amiee wishes she may press closer to keep warm." He purred again as I wrapped my arm around his waist, the other rubbing his ears. I didn't respond, sleep already washing over me and taking me away, the fact I had a friend beside me in the snow blanketed inn making me feel safe. I nuzzled one last time, before the world faded and the alcohol shut off my brain.

* * *

"We've managed to stabilize her, doctor."

_Oh, not again._

"Good. Keep her monitored and send the information to my omni-tool. As soon as the lab results come back, I want to know," another voice said, one I recognized. "I can't see the reason her heart just stopped like that, but I'm sure the lab techs will find something."

"Yes doctor. I'll make sure to inform the night shift too," the female voice responded. "Is there anything else I can do while I'm here?"

_Dafuq is going on? Whose heart stopped? Who the hell are these people._

"That will be all for now, nurse. Go and have your break, I'll watch for a while," was the last I heard, before nothing but darkness filled my head.

* * *

A pawed finger met my lips, a whispered purr. "Qa'ren hears something, Amiee needs to be silent now," my cat friend rumbled into my ear, waking me from my hungover sleep. He met my tired eyes, before nodding and slipping from the bed. I followed him, trying not to make any noise as I caught shuffling sounds from outside the room. He silently handed me a knife, his eyes meeting mine and flashing as he grinned.

"Who is it?" I whispered, hiccupping a little. I hadn't slept enough and the rum still had me in its clutches. My question was pointless however, as three huge men charged into the room, all nords, all wearing stormcloak blue. I opened my mouth to shout as they raised their swords, aiming for Qa'ren, but he covered my lips with his paw.

He let me go, leaping forward in one graceful movement, his back arching as his powerful back legs kicked off the floor. He landed on the first, knocking him back. "Now would be a good time for Amiee to burn," he shouted, slashing the huge male with his claws, drawing blood with each swipe.

The other two turned to me. "Ulfric wants his bitch back, you're too valuable for him to let walk around bedding furballs," one snarled, his hand snaking out to catch my arm. I flinched back, pinned against a wall, the fight in the doorway preventing any kind of escape.

"Back the fuck off me, dude," I warned, my hands flickering with ice. He laughed, slapping me hard across the face. "Oh you fucker," I snarled, sending my magic at him, the weak flames due to my drunken state making him flinch and shuffle back.

"Bitch," he growled, lashing out again. His friend took advantage of my distraction, grabbing me and sticking a gag in my mouth, dragging me into his arms kicking and scratching. "Kill the cat, Jared! We've got her!"

I could hear hisses and yeowles, pain and and anger from Qa'ren as he fought valiantly. I was plucked from my feet and dragged from the room, the soft brush of fur against my thigh as we went. I tried to fight to get to my friend, hearing muffled thumps and more hisses followed by cursing.

"Qa'ren will find, Amiee. Qa'ren promises this!" called the feline, hopefully not the last I would hear from him. Cold hit my skin as I struggled, trying to get back to him, to help him, but the one holding me just kept walking, only cursing and wincing as my nails raked his thick arms. I tried to spit the gag out as my feet dragged along the floor and I was thrown across the saddle of a horse, my stomach hitting the moulding and sending me dizzy with pain.

"Qa'ren!" I mumbled through the gag, praying my friend would survive. I tried to use my magic, but a swift blow to my head knocked me out cold and I knew no more.


	7. Cuddles in the Cold

_It's cold, and I am eating a pillow_, I thought to myself as I spat the cloth from my mouth and slowly opened my eyes. The first thing I saw was the sky, blue, with light clouds scuttling across it. Gold and brown leaves rustled to my left, trees passing by as something carried me down a bumpy road. I shifted, a tiny movement to test if I was bound, the kidnapping coming to my mind in a flash. I kept my breathing even and light, slowly inching my way back, hoping no one would see the tiny movements.

"Ahh, you're awake."

The raspy hiss seemed familiar, but in a detached sort of way._ Shit_ . . .. I froze, trying not to make a sound, my mind trying to place a face to the voice. I slowly, as if fearing attack, turned my head towards the speaker, catching sight of his back as he drove a carriage down a dirt road. _Oh, not again_. The spiked dorsal fin was a dead give away, not that I could have missed the black scales and green patches.

"How do you feel, milady?"

"Ugh . . .." I groaned, raising my hand to my head, feeling a huge bump at the side. "Does that answer your question?" I asked, trying to sit up, only to fail dismally.

"More or less. When you feel up to it, I have good news and bad news," Sharaak said, his voice almost apologetic.

I closed my eyes, wanting to go back to sleep. "Dude, I've never felt 'up for it,' in this frickin' place, so just get on with it," I told him, dragging myself up by gripping the side of the carriage, likely getting splinters . . . not that I could feel it, my hands were pretty numb. The argonian shrugged, the reins in his hands jingling the harnesses on the horses from the motion

"The good news is that I killed Ulfric's men who kidnapped you." He turned in his seat, his scales reflecting the sun as he looked at me. He flicked the reins, making the carriage sway and rock. "The bad news, well, for you, is that it was Ulfric's men who took you." He leaned back to give her an envelope of rough paper, a seal of the high king keeping it closed still. "I haven't opened it yet, but if you have a match and the skill, you can read a letter's contents regardless."

"Sneaky fish-face," I muttered, taking the letter with unsteady hands. I ripped it open, reading the script after blinking a few times to make sense of it.

_Bring that wench back to me before sundown or so help me I'll see you fed to the slaughterfish in the harbor. I have far too much invested in her shout to see it slip through my fingers now._

_U-_

"Wench? He called me a fucking wench?" I gasped, fury boiling up. "Oh he is so fucking dead, like . . . I am gonna kill him, turn him into a goddamn zambie, then kill him again." I tossed the letter to the floor, before changing my mind and stuffing it into my bra . . . armor . . . thing. _When I see him again, I'll need it, to smack into his stupid . . . ugh, fucking fuck._

"I take it you aren't upset with me still then?" Sharaak asked, looking over his shoulder at me as I seethed. He quirked a scaled brow, slowing the cart without even looking. Showoff.

I let out a deep sigh. "No, I'm not mad at you. I'm just . . . fuck my damn life. Why is it dudes I like turn out to be fucktards?" I asked, before rubbing my eyes. "You know what, don't answer, I gives a fuck. Did you see a Khajiit when you rescued me?"

"Aye. He tore up that group of thugs trying to take you off." He chuckled slightly at the memory, a dry sound, like a dog coughing but quicker. "I haven't seen him since he lost his pursuers. Why?" he asked, curiosity in his hissing voice.

I swallowed, both relieved Qa'ren had made it out alive, but sad that he wasn't here. I hoped he was having more luck than I was. "He is a friend," I said after a while. "Where are we going?" I asked, looking around. "And what happened to the snow?"

"After your friend fought off most of them, I had the foresight to shadow you. Wasn't hard to catch the drop on them, undisciplined nords." He shook his head sadly, keeping his eyes on the road. "When I took you back I realized that the city was a bad idea. I thought perhaps you would like to see the greybeards." The carriage pulled to a stop and he hopped down, before walking to the back.

I looked down at him, then up to the mountain. "The greybeards?" I asked, wanting to run away. "The frickin' destiny people? Bloody great, I don't wanna go up no mountain, I wanna just . . . fuck this noise." I crossed my arms, glearing at him. His responding shrug was completely uncaring.

"You wanted out of Winterhold, I needed to get back to the Legion from all the ruckus you stirred up. Seems a fair deal to me." Sharaak offered a hand to help me down to the ground. "Either way, our paths divert here."

I ignored his hand, shivering at the thought of the scales. "Wait, what?" I stammered. "You're just going to dump me here like a sack of potatoes and take your happy ass back to whatever rock you crawled from?" I asked him, before stomping my foot. "Not fucking cool, bubbles."

His eye twitched at my tone and my refusal to let him help me down, and he retracted his arm. "Fine . . .. Unless you want to come with me and join the Legion, I thought this place best. It is unfortunate, but I see no other way, milady." He shrugged again, his fin flicking in a creepy way.

"Look, I'm grateful for the rescue man, I really am, but this is all too bloody much," I said, throwing my hands up into the air and wincing as I let out a cloud of ice. "And my fucking hands keep doing that shit without me wanting them to, how the fuck do you expect me to survive?" I hid my hands, trying to make the ice go away.

"What exactly do you think the greybeards teach? Knitting? Hmph." Sharaak stomped off back towards the driver seat of the carriage muttering to himself.

I glared at his back for a moment, before letting out a small huff of breath. "Look, I'm sorry, okay. I'm stressed out and crap keeps going wrong and I'm worried about my friend, pissed at my now apparent ex, in a place that I don't know. I'm sorry."

He heaved himself into the drivers seat and looked back at me for a moment, silently measuring me. "I believe you when you say you don't understand where you are milady, the look on your face is far too genuine for it to be otherwise. But believe me, the greybeards can help you. It will be difficult to get there, and not just from the climb. Here." Reaching to his belt Sharaak unclipped a pouch of coins and tossed it to me. "Consider this a down payment. Buy a guide and have him help you. But I need to keep moving. Perhaps we'll meet again, lady Amiee."

He raised his hand once, before picking up the reins and clicking his tongue, sending the carriage trundling off. I watched, staring after him, the bag hanging limp in my hand as he vanished around a hill. "Well shit," I whispered, looking around. Other than trees, I couldn't see much at my level, just hills and deer trails winding over dry grass, but above them . . . _Big fucking mountain, which I am now supposed to climb . . . marvelous._

Looking back at the way we came, I discounted it, before picking up my bow, which for some reason I'd been allowed to keep, and tucking the coin purse into my pocket. Trudging forward, I grumbled to myself as I walked, having no idea where I was going, other than up the big fucking hill. I suddenly felt like Jill, why I don't know, but a sick sense of foreboding flooded through me.

"Fuck Skyrim and it's stupid fucking destiny shit, I mean, who even has a destiny nowadays anyway, it's all bullshit and superstition, so what, I can make lots of noise, I don't need dragon words to gob off, I'm fucking English for gods sake, give me a pint and hear me roar," I ranted, talking to some poor bunnie that cowered in the grass. "You've got the right idea buddy, keep your nose down and don't talk to ranting brits, it never does any good either way," I advised the creature made of fluff. It looked at me, it's nose twitching before darting off.

I sighed as it scampered away, feeling more alone now than ever. "Welp, nothing for it, grin and bear it, chin chin and all that bullshit," I said, trying to cheer myself up without success. "I wish there was a faster way to do this crap, if there's one thing I hate, it's walking. So bloody boring. Left foot." My left foot stomped down. "Right foot." It's partner repeated the move, hammering the path. "Left foot, right foot, see, so fucking boring."

I opened my mouth to continue my rant, when the power inside me built again. I knew better than to try and stop it, so I just let it go, the wind rushing from my lungs as a shout ripped through the silent air. "Wuld nah kest!"

I was hurled forward, time seeming to stop as a huge distance was eaten up without me moving, or so it seemed. I blinked, coming to a stand still, looking back at the hill I'd been walking down. Leaves settled, disturbed by my passing, swirling and dancing in a tunnel of breeze I'd created. "Fuck. Yeah. Donkey!" I shouted, before a wave of energy had me grabbing a tree to stop myself from falling on my ass.

I closed my eyes, weaving like a drunk at Christmas, my knees locked to keep me standing. "Maybe not so much fuck yeah, and more oh my fuck," I groaned, holding my head with my free hand.

"Excuse me?"

I didn't move.

"Are you . . . alright?"

Again, I said nothing, just waved my hand in the general direction of the voice.

"Do you need assistance?"

I rubbed my eyes. "Uh, I have no idea? Maybe?" I muttered, trying to make the world stop spinning without Kitty to threaten it into submission. "Sorry . . . don't mind me . . . I've uh, been hitting the rum," I lied, hoping whoever the person was would pass me by.

"Dovahkiin!"

"Oh for fucks sake, I'm on my damn way, shut the fuck up!" I shouted to the mountain. "Jebus on a fucking krogan!" I finally opened my eyes to glare at the peak as if I could bring it down with the power of my hate. "I swear to fucking god, when I get up there, y'all are gonna wish you never opened your goddamn mouths!" My teeth were bared by the end of my scream.

"Excu-"

I whirled on the speaker, well and truly fucked off by this point. I was going to yell, rant and scream, but as I took in the speaker, I blinked stupidly instead. "You're an elf?" I asked stupidly, my eyes flicking over pointed ears and angular eyes.

The male nodded, his posture regal. "Yes, I am a wood elf, and you look like you need help. Let me offer my assistance and name," he said, moving forward a little, the sun highlighting his face. "My name is Maliat." His voice was soft, whispery and enigmatic, making me tilt my head to hear him.

"Raven," I said, using the name I'd given before, not trusting anyone at this point. "Uh . . . I don't really need any help, but if you could tell me where I find the greybeards, I'd be greatful." I scanned him a little, taking in his muted clothing, the cloth deep browns and greens, making him hard to see against the trees. A bow was against his back, a quiver beside it, and a sword hung on his hip.

He studied me as I did him, his deep green eyes curious. "You are no nord, imperial or breton I have ever seen, and you are no elf either. Where do you hail from, Raven? And why do you seek the greybeards?" he asked, stepping forward even more, his hands beside him in a non threatening pose. "I mean you no harm, I am just a wanderer, not a bandit or thief."

I frowned, my hands twitching without reason. "Uh, I'm from England . . . It's like, all the way to the . . . north?" I said, my voice tilting at the end, my inability to lie giving me away. "Ugh, let's just say I'm not from here and leave it at that. And I need to speak with the greybeards, cause they keep shouting me." There wasn't much point in hiding it really, considering my mini explosion at the mountain.

Maliat frowned. "I will take your word for it, though . . . I find myself curious, and ask that you allow me to accompany you. It is not often one stumbles across a dragonborn in the woods," he said, smiling a little. "I can not resist adventure, and the way up the seven thousand steps is littered with danger. Wolves and trolls, ice wraiths and spiders. I can protect you from them all."

I stared, open mouthed. "Say again?" I asked, my voice high pitched and shocked. "Just . . . what did you say?"

"That I can pro-"

"Not that part, the first bit . . . how many steps?" I asked, cutting him off and waving my hand. "Did you say _seven thousand steps_?" I wanted to turn around right there and then and just walk away. No way could I make it up that many steps. _I'd die half way or something . . . not to mention the whole 'spider, wolf, troll and wraith' comment_. "I'm gonna die, I'm dead . . . so dead." I flopped, just letting myself drop onto the floor, full tantum mode activated.

"Are you tired?" he asked, moving to crouch in front of me. "I have stamina potions, if that would help." A glass bottle full of green liquid appeared in front of me. He waved it a little, as if to tempt me. "It will ease your body of the pains of travel."

I tentatively took the bottle, too tired to really think that he could be feeding me poison or something. Unstopping the cork, I tipped it to my lips, meeting his eyes as I swallowed.

It was like being struck by lightening.

My body began to tremble.

My hands shook violently, the bottle falling to the grass.

"I . . . what the hell is that?" I gasped, jumping to my feet and looking left and right several times, energy filling me to the brim, making my words come out in a stream of nonsense. "It's like . . . omfcukinggodIneedmore!" My body shook so violently I thought I was going to take flight. "Ineedtorun!" Without another word spoken I took off, my legs pounding, lightening fring from my hands. "Wellshit, didn't mean too, sorry!" I couldn't stop, even as I heard Maliat following behind me, and little fires appeared when lightning from my hands struck.

"Raven!"

"I can't stop!" I shouted, sprinting full out through a little hamlet village. I looked up, trying to see the way and skidded to a halt, only to bounce on the spot, too much energy keeping me from focusing. I darted about, looking here and there, trying to spot my path. "Which way?"

Maliat stopped beside me, putting his hands on my shoulders as if to stop me from taking off. "The path is over the bridge," he said, amusement in his voice. "You have never taken a stamina potion before, have you?" he asked, laughing as I shook my head wildly from side to side. "I see . . .. Then maybe no more stamina potions for a while, until your body can adjust to the energy."

I nodded, my head bouncing up and down like a hummingbird's wings. "Okay, can we go, I want to run," I stammered, poking him in the chest as he physically restrained me. He let me go, shaking his head as he did so. I didn't even bother taking in the town, there'd be time for that later, I wanted to get up the seven thousand steps before the energy coursing through me stopped and I crashed.

"Come on!" I shouted, hearing him chuckle as he caught up with me. I turned my head. "What?" I asked him after a moment.

Maliat laughed, a high, tinkling laugh that rang in my ears too long, it held . . . magic. "You, you're rather entertaining," he said, nodding to a path I hadn't seen yet. "Up that way, you will find the steps. Along the road, you will find carvings, if you're interested." His long stride brought him ahead of me and I growled, pushing harder. I hated to be beaten.

"Dude, you honestly think I can stay still long enough to read anything?" I asked, coming across the first of the steps. I bounded up the first five with the energy of a six year old on a sugar rush. I paid no attention to my surroundings, the challenge of the steps all consuming, but I was vaguely aware of the trees and rocks around me, mostly periphery, almost instinctive, self preservation I guess. Maliat laughed again, shaking his dark head.

I hadn't even noticed his hair until now. "You should get a haircut," I said sagely, taking another five steps quickly. "I mean, nearly every guy I've seen in this place has longer hair than me," I told him, wagging my brows. "Kinda makes me wonder about the sexuality element going on all up in here."

Maliat stumbled, his grace failing in the face of my rather blunt statement. "Raven, it is for several reasons the males have hair this way. One, the cold, it's insulating, and two it is because the males of the nords like to imitate their gods. Elven males wear long hair to cover our ears, as we're shunned by most of the other races." Sorrow filled his voice, said ears drooping a little.

"Well, I don't mind your ears, I mean, they take some getting used to, but meh, don't worry about me giving you shit for them," I said, shrugging my shoulders. Maliat was about to speak when a howl ripped the air, stopping even me in my energy induced hyperactivity. I took my bow from my back, noticing Maliat do the same. "Wolves."

He nodded, notching an arrow and raising his bow. I couldn't see the wolf or wolves yet, but the hair on the back of my neck prickled. I kept still, the string of my bow taut and ready, the arrow shaft between my fingers, the head resting against the wood. I scanned the area, looking between rocks and trees for shifting shadows. A slight movement to my left drew my eye, miniscule but noticeable against the shifting of leaves in the opposite direction. My arm came up at the same time as the elf brought his to bear, both of us loosing our arrows in sync.

I watched the two arrows, the slight spin to mine sending it further to the left and into the neck of the wolf that had slipped between the trees, while Maliat's slammed home into the chest. The beast yelped, staggering back only to fall as two more arrows embedded themselves into its body. I lowered my bow as it fell silent, listening for its pack. Nothing happened, no sound but the wind brushing leaves around us. I looked at the elf, he looked at me, and we both smiled.

Walking over to it, I yanked my arrows out, then his, shaking the tips of flesh with disgust on my face. I didn't relish killing an animal, but after my last run in with wolves, I wasn't exactly wanting to pet one of the things. Slipping my arrows into my quiver, I handed over Maliat's before moving up again, the winding road turning out of sight around the edge of the mountain.

"Come on, lets keep moving, but maybe a bit slower," I said, wary now. Our pace had us nearly on top of the wolf before we'd even seen it, and if there was more, we'd need to be careful so they didn't get the drop on us. "So, Maliat, you got a family or anything?" I asked him, not wanting to walk in silence.

He shook his head, sorrow marring his delicate features. "I did, a long time ago, but they're all dead now, killed by the stormcloaks as they passed through our camp," he said softly. "We were heading to Whiterun to seek shelter from the war, somewhere safe we could trade. My wife made baskets, while I used my skill with a bow to bring meat and pelts to sell. My son wanted to be a bard, while my daughter wanted to be a mage. She had the talent." He let out a soft sigh, seeming to shake himself from the memories. "What about you, Raven? Do you have loved ones waiting for you, wherever it is you call home?"

I frowned, trying to push past the block in my head, the wall separating something from me, some integral piece to my being. I'd been trying to breach it for a while now, but every time I sat silently to concentrate, something blew up, tried to eat me, or fucked with me, so it had been unsuccessful so far. I wanted to weep suddenly, but the tears wouldn't come, because I wouldn't let them. I sighed, looking up at the mountain, wondering if I'd find my answers there.

"Raven?"

I looked at him, realizing I'd been silent for some time, mindlessly walking and climbing. Only the straining of my legs told me I'd been climbing for ages. "Sorry, what did you say?" I asked blankly. "My name is Amiee, by the way." _May as well, dude seems to hate Ulfric and the stormcloaks as much as I do right now._

"Amiee?" he asked. "Unusual name, but fitting an unusual woman." He grabbed my arm, stopping me and pointing to a large stone, carved with ancient script. "This is the halfway mark. Normally one would camp and meditate here, but I can see storm clouds. It is up to you if we stay, but be wary, these paths get worse in the dark."

I looked at the sky, the power building in my chest again. My lips parted. "Lok vah koor!" Energy ripped from me, tearing into the sky and shattering the black clouds threatening us. I nearly fell, would have plummeted from the cliff we stood on had it not been for Maliat and his elven reflexes. He caught me by the hand I had flung out instinctively, dragging me back from the precipice.

"Well, looks like the storm won't be a problem," I said, my voice the barest of whispers. "But I could do with a breather." I panted a little, all of the energy from the potion feeling like it had been sucked from within me. I looked up at the now glassy sky. "At least if we camp, we're not going to get snowed on at least."

Maliat stared at me for the longest time, before taking a loaf of bread from his pack. "Here, eat this, it'll help," he said, handing it to me. He moved to an overhang in the rock. "I have a tent, so we will have shelter. Can you build a fire?" he asked, kneeling and unrolling several lengths of cloth.

I nodded, not sure. "I can give it a go . . .." I said, moving to gather armfuls of dry sticks from the ground, careful not to slip. He threw something at me, some black stone I recognized as micah, and a shard of metal. I looked down at the objects in my hands then to the sticks, before kneeling and trying to make some semblance of a fire shape.

Once I'd made a pyramid shape, I began to strike the metal against the stone, huddling around it to keep the wind from extinguishing the spark. My hands were numb making me long for my rabbit skin gloves, wondering what had become of them. I don't even know when I'd lost them, probably during the kidnapping. I just hoped someone had made some kind of use of them.

Cursing my lack of luck with the fire, I huffed in annoyance, my hands sparking. I sent a small gout of flames at the sticks, grinning as the fire began to crackle, consuming the sticks. I slowly layered more on, adding thicker logs until I had a blaze in front of me. Once I was satisfied it wouldn't go out, I sat on my butt and began to nibble the bread from Maliat.

"You cheated didn't you?" he asked, his eyes alight with a mixture of amusement and disapproval. "You can't always rely on magic, Amiee. What happens when you run out of magicka?" He sat beside me, warming his hands. "Magic has laws, rules the user must follow if they are to survive the use of their gifts. You can only use what you have, and when what you have is gone, you must know how to survive without it."

I frowned, stretching my legs out to the flames, shifting a stone from under my butt. "Magicka?" I asked, tilting my head. "You'll have to explain that one to me." I shivered as the wind picked up. "I've not really had the chance to learn much about magic, I've just kinda been winging it, I guess."

He stared at me, his mouth opening and closing, his eyes reflecting the fire. "Why has no one taught you? You're the _dragonborn_. You should have been taught, so you don't cast spells that can kill you. Whoever was in charge of your education needs to be whipped." The anger in his tone stirred the air and I knew then that he had magic too. "You need to go to the college, as soon as you are free of the task you have embarked on, you need to be taught."

"Dude, I've only been here for a couple of weeks, the closest I came to being taught was some creepy yoda guy in a dress," I told him, shaking my head. "I haven't really used magic, so to speak. Half the time I forget I have it and it happens by accident. I mean, I didn't even know I could do lightning, but you saw before, it just happens. I get tired, if I use too much, but nothing bad happened yet." I shrugged my shoulders, sighing softly.

Maliat reached into his pocket, holding out two potions, these ones blue. "These are magicka potions, they work on the same principle as stamina potions. It will replace the energy used during spell casting. Now, I'm going to hunt before it gets too dark. I want you to use your fire, sustain it until you can't anymore. Use the potions when you have no power left, then use frost and then spark. I want to see which is strongest." He got up, picking up his bow and quiver, before melting into the trees like mist. I didn't even hear the crunch of snow or leaves to mark his passing, and for some reason it creeped the hell out of me.

I looked at my hands, moving closer to the overhang and the fire, before letting my magic flow, the almost cloying feeling clouding my senses. I'd never done this before, sat and felt my magic. It was almost a tangible thing, hot and searing and yet . . . cool and comforting, like it was part of me, embedded into my very core. I wound it around my palms, the flames flickering to life and coating my fingers.

I could feel the drain now I knew there was one, but it wasn't as much as I expected. Then again, I wasn't using much power. Looking up, I frowned, before extending my hands towards the wall and letting go of the hold on my power. The exhaustion hit quicker than I expected as the flames grew hotter, the stone blackening and coated in crimson. I kept going, forcing more of my power to my hands until after some time, my eyes rolled back and I slumped against the ground.


	8. The Seven Thousand Steps

"Well, that worked," I groaned a while later, my hand patting around for the potions. "That . . . Ow. I've gotta stop passing out like this." Rubbing my head, I sat up and looked around. The fire had long since gone out and I was freezing, so cold in fact, that I couldn't feel my fingers, and my feet had long since packed their socks and left. "Mailiat?" I called out, getting to my feet.

The wind buffeted me, the darkness blinded me and fear seized me as I pulled open the tent flaps. Maliat wasn't inside. Shuffling out again, I stood on tiptoe to get a better look around, but I still couldn't see my elven friend. "Maliat!" I shouted, letting my voice echo over the trees. I frowned when once again I got no answer.

"Well I can't look for you, it's pitch black and I know something will happen, then you'll blame me for worrying and getting lost," I grumbled, scooping up the remaining potions and climbing into the tent. The wind was cut off, not silenced but abated by the fabric, There wasn't much room inside, but to be honest, I really didn't mind. I curled up on the sleeping bag, munching a little more bread and settled to wait for my friend.

Time stretched on.

I yawned.

The wind howled.

Nothing happened.

_Where the hell did he get to_? I wondered, peeking out of the tent, only to retreat as ice and sleet flew inside. Shivering, I lay down, curling up into a little ball. The tent shook, making it feel like the wind was trying to tear the tent apart to get to me.

My thoughts went to those I'd met so far, from Pup, who I missed keenly, no matter who his allegiance was to, then to Qa'ren, my feline friend who had fought to save me. I hoped he was okay, that he'd found somewhere safe from Ulfrics men. I wished he was with me, his warm fur keeping the chill away. My mind wandered to Sharaak, the strange argonian that had dogged my steps from Windhelm. I wondered if he'd gone back to the legion he loved so much, of if he was keeping his fish eyes on Ulfric right now. I knew he'd show up again when I was indecisive, he was like a bad penny that I knew I needed, as much as I didn't want to admit it.

"No sign of her yet?" a hushed whisper asked. I could barely hear it over the wind, but it was just loud enough for me to catch the words. Close and slightly above I thought, horse back too, judging from the clinking of harnesses and bridles that accompanied the voice.

"No sir, but Ulfric told us to wait on the mountain, so he must think she'll come this way," responded and equally hushed female voice. "I don't know though, Unfear. He said she's pretty clueless, not from around here. How can she evade us?" The voice was full of frustration and annoyance, as if to question how I dared to be hard to catch.

I stayed as still as I could, listening hard. Unfear, whoever he was coughed, growling as the woman shushed him. As they bickered quietly I moved forward, picking up the magicka potions and my bow. The latter I slipped into my pocket, hoping they wouldn't make any noise and the first I kept in my hands. I couldn't take the tent with me, so I slipped through the opening and peered up over the edge of the overhang.

In front of me, facing to the left was two soldiers on huge horses, both sat with their backs hunched against the wind, furs and armor protecting them from the elements. _How am I supposed to get past them_? I looked at the mountain behind them, trying to see another path that didn't require me to pass them . . . sneaking wasn't exactly my forte. I felt a trickle of power inside me, a shout wanting to come out, instinct telling me that it was the right thing to do. I worried though, even if I managed to take them out and hide, the graybeards would call me and give away any hiding place I managed to find.

The woman moved, her eyes scanning inches from me.

I froze, barely breathing even as my lips opened.

A shout rose in my chest. "Zul mey gut!" Somewhere in the distance, I heard a voice that sounded almost identical to my own. "Hey, skeever butt!" The shout itself wasn't as loud as the others, more of a whisper, hissing from my lips, but the insulting voice shouted aggressively, almost taunting. I held my head as dizziness washed over me, ducking back under the overhang.

The two soldiers wheeled their horses around, heads turning this way and that, trying to find where the shout had come from. They climbed off their horses, silently signalling to one another, moving further away from me. They drew their swords as they headed into the treeline, their blue coats hardly disguised against the white. I frowned, judging the distance between myself and the horses. Scrambling up the cliff, I crept toward the first of them, a huge ebony stallion and climbed into the saddle. I slapped the rump of the roan horse, sending it galloping away, before trotting in the opposite direction up the mountain.

I prayed silently that they would think I was escaping down the mountain, and not heading up. I felt the beast bridling at my silent commands, fighting the reins and bit between it teeth. Keeping calm, I gently tugged the reins, my thighs tightening around the saddle. I shushed him, stroking his mane with one hand as we turned a wide bend in the road, the steep incline making passage difficult.

"Come on, boy, you can do it," I whispered, listening intently for the sounds of pursuit. I had a thought, one that chilled me to the bone. _What if they found Maliat_? I hoped he was okay, that he'd not been caught by the stormcloaks. I sighed, once again fighting the horse as he tried to go down the slope rather than up it. "No, not that way, mister," I growled, nudging him with my heels. "We're gonna go up, and when I get there, you can go home, okay?"

I nudged him into a trot, ignoring his huffs of annoyance and driving him on up the steps. We passed more rocks, my horses hooves making short work of the climb, but the air was getting thin. I had to take small, shallow breaths, fighting the altitude sickness that settled in my gut. I could see the top of what I guessed was the greybeards . . . house?_ More like a frickin' castle._ I pushed harder, cold seeping into me, the fact I was actually wanted to get there annoying me. I petted the steaming side of the horses neck absently.

The road curved again, more steps passing under us as we moved through the cloud banks. The stars . . . good god. They hung like crystal jewels in the sky, thousands, too many to count, all glimmering like fireflies in the deep. I stared open mouthed, gazing at the two moons and slowing my horse to a stop. I dragged my gaze down, surveying the land spread like a canvas around me. Mountains littered the horizon, towns that I imagined to be huge looked like little dolls houses, dotted around the landscape. I could see ruins and rivers, forests and wastelands, as well as huge rolling valleys with waterfalls carving through them. Skyrim really was beautiful, in a strange . . . old world way.

The huge ebony horse froze under me, its thick muscles tensing and twitching as its head reared up, tossing back and forth in agitation. I peered behind, pulling out my bow, ready for the stormcloaks. I didn't even see the attack from the front. Landing on my back, my breath whooshing from me, I winced, watching in a haze as something huge and white swung long, thick arms at my horse.

"Dafuq?" I muttered, rolling to my knees. I tried to get a view of the thing, but my horse reared back on it's hind legs, kicking powerfully at the creature. I heard grunts as well as pained cries from the horse, spurring me into action. I leaped to my feet, power pouring through me, wanting to spill from my lips. I moved to the side of the battling horse, cringing as I was just missed by a huge swipe of clawed hands. In front of me, was a huge . . . troll. It roared in fury, trying to get to me, despite the horses efforts.

Blood dripped from the horse's chest, shallow cuts and bruises over his chest and shoulders. Fury boiled inside me, terror warring with the need to defend the creature trying to keep the thing back.

My mouth opened.

My power swirled.

"Liss slen nus!"

Ice formed around the troll, freezing it in place, turning it into a huge block of ice, it's snarl locked on its face. The horses hooves connected with its chest, shattering it into a million peices. Dark, sad eyes met mine as the horse turned to face me. I stroked his nose, praising him with soothing coos.

"You're a good horse," I muttered, staring down at the broken troll. "Take it you wanna stay?" I asked him, my hands stroking his cheek now. He bobbed his head, almost as if replying. "You're gonna need a name . . . Hmm, well, my first horse was called Styx, but she was a girl, how about Abaddon? I think it fits you." He pressed his forehead into my chest, huffing and neighing a little. "Okay, Abaddon it is."

I knelt down, ripping some fabric from my armor, dabbing at his wounds. Running my hands down his forelocks, I checked his legs over, making sure there was no swelling or hot spots. Magic rose without my noticing and my hands glowed, gold swirls leaving me and coating the dark fur. The wounds closed by themselves, my magic, so natural to me, healing away the wounds.

Abaddon stayed still, accepting the healing, his eyes wide but not panicking. His chest heaved a little, and his mane flicked like the back of a cats would when dreaming, but otherwise he did nothing. My head lolled as my power waned, pressing against his chest. In a strange, totally out of character way, Abaddon knelt on his forelegs, pushing me with his head until I was draped over his back. I didn't have the strength to sit up, so I just lay there, holding on with weak hands. He began to walk, his steps slow and even, as if to not jar me. I patted his neck, the only movement I could make.

_Okay, healing takes a lot of energy,_ I thought, dragging my arm inch by inch to my pocket. I slipped out one of the potions, before sipping the drink quickly. It soothed my fried body, filling me with energy. When it settled, I dragged myself up, pulling myself into the saddle. "Ugh, I'm gonna regret this in the morning," I muttered, looking up as the castle came into view. Abaddon stopped just before the stairs, letting me slide from his back.

"Thank you, Abaddon," I whispered to him, stroking his forehead. I turned to face the doors, the horse nudging me in the back, pushing me towards them. "I'm going, I'm going," I muttered, taking a breath of thin air.

I took the last step.

My hands pushed on the intricately carved door, allowing the icy wind to buffet me once again as I strode inside. The castle was tall of course, and covered in snow, but the windows that dotted the exterior were stained glass. The contrast they left with the bleak landscape around them left a lasting impression in me, and the way the road curved up the hill looked as though the road had always been there, rather than man made.

Steps echoed across stone as I made my way up, the iced over stepping stones throughout the courtyard giving the place a distinctly 'monk' feeling. I felt like I was in old medieval Japan, but without cherry blossoms and stuff.

"So . . . a dragonborn appears, at this moment in the turning of the age." The voice was soft, old and wisened, spoken from the lips of a man walking towards me, flanked by three more in similar gray robes. They all had long grey beads, which I assume was the reason behind the name, and all looked at me with a mix of curiosity, wonder and a little surprise.

"Dude, you called me," I said, rolling my eyes. "Welp, here I am." I always hated people that stated the obvious, I mean, he'd been shouting at me for god knows how long.

"First, let us see if you truly are dragonborn. Let us taste of your voice," he said, folding his hands into the huge sleeves of his robes.

"Taste my voice?" I asked, my nose wrinkling. "You guys eat voices? Dude, that's whacked." I backed away a little, scared he'd steal my words. "I don't want any word eating stuff . . . thanks anyway." My hands came up defensively, eyes flicking to the door.

A little rumble shook the room as the guy spoke again. "Shout, dragonborn, show us your power."

I opened my mouth to tell him not to get snippy with me, but my power rose, as if to obey his order. "Ven gar nos!" I shouted, watching in horror as a cyclone appeared, sending the four men to the ground, slamming pots and cups into walls, shattering clay and fracturing the floor. Weakness washed over me as the wind tore through the halls, a plethora of sound and motion making the world go fuzzy as the sound died, leaving only silence.

The four men got to their feet.

They stared at me.

I stared at them.

"You have much power for one who is untrained. But, you certainly are the dragonborn, of that, we can be certain. Tell us dragonborn, where did you learn the shout of the cyclone?" the first wizard-man asked, his robes and beard ruffled.

I blinked. "Learn?" I asked, shaking my head. "I didn't learn any of the words, they're just there . . . in my head." My voice was cautious, a mix of fear and uncertainty. "Is that normal?"

The four men looked at one another, rumbles I couldn't quite catch passing between them, their lips barely moving. The first male spoke after what sounded like a lengthy discussion. "My name is Arngeir, the voice of the greybeards." The four men bowed in unison. "The others, Borri, Einarth and Wulfgar." As he gestured to them, each one bowed.

"Well . . . I'm Amiee," I said, waving a little, my cheeks heating as they looked at me. "Nice to meet you?"

"Your skill with the voice, the words you know without any guidance is a cause for concern. It has been decided, that you must speak with the leader, the master of the graybeards. His name is Paarthurnax and he awaits you at the throat of the world. You must speak with him, to gain the knowledge only he holds."

"Throat of the world?" I asked, imagining a smoke and brimstone hell, a hole leading down to the centre of the world where some demon lay in wait to eat my soul. "That does not sound like a place I want to go." I shook my head. "Can't you just . . . shout for him to come up here? If he's all the way in this 'throat of the world' place. I've just climbed this frickin' mountain, he can walk his happy ass up to me." I barely resisted the urge to stomp my foot.

"The throat of the world lies high above High Hrothgar, at the top of the mountain. You will understand why, when and if you reach it, dragonborn," Arngeir said, his voice ominous. "It takes great mastery of the voice to pass the test of the path to knowledge." He motioned for me to follow, gesturing for me to stand in the centre of the room. "We will now greet you as the dragonborn, stand and hear our greeting in the voice of the dragons."

I stood, nervous and scared, wondering what they were going to say and what they meant by 'voice of the dragons.' I didn't get the chance to ask, before the men began to speak in unison. "_Lingrah krosis saraan Strundu'ul, voth nid balaan klov praan nau. Naal Thu'umu, mu ofan nii nu, Dovahkiin, naal suleyk do Kaan, naal suleyk do Shor, ahrk naal suleyk do Atmorasewuth. Meyz nu Ysmir, Dovahsebrom. Dahmaan daar rok!_" The ground shook, my eyes going fuzzy as I was bombarded with sound. Their words rang in my ears, taking a moment for my brain to make sense of.

_Why does it sound so wrong when they shout? Like weird without pickles, it tastes funny and I don't like it. _

"Long has the Storm Crown languished with no worthy brow to sit upon. By our breath we bestow it now to you in the name of Kyne, in the name of Shor, and in the name of Atmora of old. You are Ysmir now, the Dragon of the North. Hearken to it." Once I'd translated, not that I knew what it meant, the words stopped, the world falling silent as my ears rang. I stared, dumbfounded, shaken and for some reason exhausted.

"You are now welcome in High Hrothgar, Dragonborn," Arngeir said, bowing again. _God, these guys sure like to bow. It's starting to freak me out_. He raised his head. "Now, I will lead you to the gates that you must pass through to get to the throat of the world," he said, leading me up a set of stairs. He pushed it open, gesturing for me to enter a huge courtyard. "This way."

I stopped for a second, looking up. "Please tell me I don't have to go up!" I squeaked, blinking rapidly as icy wind hit my face. I shivered and rubbed my hands. "I . . . wait, my horse, Abaddon is out the front, can't I bring him with me?" I asked hopefully, only to be disappointed when Arngeir shook his head. "Well shit. Please take care of my horse, he needs food and water, as well as a blanket or something to keep him warm."

The man nodded, gesturing to a huge gate blocked with wind shear. "Use your voice to clear the path, dragonborn, and luck be with you." He smiled encouragingly, well, kind of smiled, it was difficult to tell considering the wrinkles.

I nodded back, moving to the gate, letting my instincts guide me. I felt around inside myself, seeking the word I needed. "Lok vah koor!" The words left me in rush, echoing and bouncing around, the clear sound rippling through the air and clearing my path. Clutching the string of my bow across my chest, I took a breath and stepped through, watching as the shear returned, sealing me off.


	9. Paarthurnax

"Fuck you! You fucking icy fucktarded fucker!" I screamed, sending fire at the creature made of ice throwing itself at me, hissing and snarling as the flames touched it. I backed away over a bridge, exhausted from using the clear skies shout, drained from fighting the millionth of these ice thingys. "Just fucking melt already!" I unleashed more flames, this time with only one hand as I chugged the last magicka potion from my pocket. It fell with a final hiss, dissolving into a pile of neon blue slush on the ground.

Sagging a little, I groaned as my stomach rumbled and my legs ached. I felt like I'd been walking for hours, but I could see the top, a doorway similar to the one below in front of me. With panting steps, I slowly walked forward, dragging myself through the snow before taking a final breath and clearing my path. Once I was through the door, I fell to my knees.

"Fuck doing this again," I muttered, looking around. A curved wall and nothing more waited for me, somewhat anti-climatically, but other than that, I couldn't see this 'master' the graybeards were talking about. Thinking I at least had a moment to catch my breath, I huffed in the incredibly thin air. "Fuck mountain climbing right off, this had better be fucking worth the goddamn journey, jebus on a . . . dragon!" I fell forward as I was buffeted by wind, huge ragged dragon wings pummeling the air, sending me face first into the snow.

"Mnf."

I scrambled to my hands and knees, spitting out snow and blinking my eyes to clear them as a massive, spined dragon landed, crashing to the ground in front of me. It's long neck weaved, turning to bring its face towards me. Its mouth opened and I froze, waiting for it to kill me. My heart pounded in my chest, my mouth hanging open as it didn't attack, but stared at me.

"Drem yol lok. Greetings, wunduniik. I am Paarthurnax," it said, the voice distinctly male and full of ancient power that sent shivers skittering over me. "Who are you? What brings you to my strunmah . . . my mountain?"

I blinked stupidly as its head came sweeping down to sniff me, wing gusting my hair as I stood up. "Um . . . you're a dragon . . .. I have a dragon talking to me and not trying to eat me . . .. I think I went crazy." I looked up at him. "You're a dragon," I said again, trying to rationalize it, as if saying the words would make it make more sense.

"I am as my father Akatosh made me. As are you . . . Dovahkiin," he said, amusement in his tone, though only his eyes showed it on his scaled face. "Tell me, why have you come, volaan? Why do you intrude on my meditations?" The last was accompanied by a little growl, almost . . . frustrated? I was struggling to get over the fact a dragon was talking to me, and I could understand it. Part of my brain registered he wasn't speaking English, but it was that thing, you know, when you're talking to a language you know, your brain just translates.

"Uh, I was sent here . . . by the greybeards. They said there's something wrong with me, cause I know all the shouts and things." I shrugged. "It's not my fault, I mean, I'm supposed to be dragonborn, but no one gave me a manual."

He huffed again, his wings flaring a little. "Drem, patience. There are formalities which must be observed at the first meeting between two of the dov." He turned to face the curved wall. "By long tradition, the elder speaks first." His maw open. "Hear my thu'um! Feel it in your bones. Match it, if you are true dovahkiin." A stream of fire erupted from him, coating the rock in flames. "Yol toor shul!"

I stared, feeling the true power of the shout, feeling it deep within me, my own power rushing to the fore, taking over my body until I arched back. "Now, show me what you can do. Greet me not as a mortal, but as dovah!" Paarthurnax ordered, his voice full of power, a power that summoned my own.

It built inside me until I couldn't hold back the crescendo of energy. My mouth opened, a shout forming deep in my chest. "Yol toor shul!" I bellowed, my own flames matching his strength for strength, heat for heat and word for word. I felt heat curling my hair, sending it towards the wall, ripping the air with my flames and power. Dizziness washed over me as I closed my mouth, cutting off the flames, but I didn't fall, keeping my knees locked to show I was true dragonborn. I wouldn't fall over now.

Paarthurnax turned to face me. "A gift, dovahkiin, take my strength and understand fire, as the dov do." Energy glowed from him, coming towards me in bright ribbons, seeping through my skin and into my very being. Fire, it flowed through me, a bone deep knowledge that I'd never had before. I knew it more than I knew myself, I knew its soul, its power, its very life, each flickering flame mine to master. The light stopped, leaving me feeling revitalized, as if I could run up and down the mountain again in one go. I bowed to him, I don't know why, but it felt right.

Paarthurnax bowed in return. "Ahh, yes! Sossedov los mul! The dragon blood runs strong within you. It is long since I have had the pleasure of speech with one of my own kind," he said, arching his neck like a cat and ruffling his wings like a bird. I don't know why, but the two movements together made me chuckle, but I cut myself off as he looked down at me, the large eye blinking with two lids. The near audible click of his lids made me shiver as he flexed his wings, taking off.

Thinking I'd offended him, I was about to speak, to say sorry, but instead of swooping away, he just flew a little to the left to perch on the stone wall, his claws cutting into the stone. "So, you have made your way here, to me. No easy task for a joor . . . mortal. Even for one of the dovah sos . . . dragonblood." His wings settled against his body as he spoke, the rustling leathery sound accompanying his voice. "What would you ask of me?"

I moved closer, sheltering a little in the curve of the wall as the sky around us lightened, dawn approaching. "I guess I need to know what it means to be dragonborn. I've been told I am one, but I don't know what I am supposed to do. Everyone wants me to fight for their side, but I don't want to fight anyone. I just want to be left alone." I shrugged, trying to keep the bitterness from my voice.

"You would not come all this way for tinvaak with an old dovah. No, you come for a weapon against Alduin." The name was heavy from his lips as he spoke, a great sorrow coloring the words.

I shook my head. "I don't even know who Alduin is," I said, frowning. "I don't know why I came. I guess because I have this . . . shout thing. The guys down there." I nodded my head in the general direction of high hrothgar. "They are worried because I know all the shouts without even being trained."

"Alduin kemey tiid. What else would you seek? Alduin and the dragonborn return together," he said, ignoring my words. "But I do not know the Thu'um you seek. Krosis. It can not be known to me."

"I don't . . . wait, is this Alduin the big black dragon that tried to kill me in Helgen?" I asked, putting the puzzle together in my mind. "Cause if so, I might need a weapon, that dude is huge. Where can I find it?" I asked, curious now. "You know, just in case."

He huffed, looking a little like he was pondering something, not speaking for a long time. "Your kind . . . Joorre . . . mortals, created it as a weapon against the dov . . . dragons." A pained look came upon his face. "Our hadrimme, our minds cannot even comprehend its concept."

I tilted my head. "Then how do I learn a shout that isn't even a dragon word, but is made by mortals. I mean, how does that even work?" My curiosity was well and truly sparked by this, a new shout, one a dragon didn't make. I mean, it wouldn't hurt to have something like that, just in case another dragon came to eat me, right?

I was about to ask again when Paarthurnax spoke. "Drem. All in good time. First, a question for you. Why do you want to learn this thu'um?"

My mouth closed as I thought, remembering the burned bodies on the ground in Helgen, the screams of kids as it harried them, the shouts of soldiers on fire. This Alduin was dangerous and I had the power to stop him, to protect people . . . it wasn't about me.

"I want to stop Alduin," I said finally, my words sure. "I won't fight for Ulfric or the legion, I'll protect people instead."

"Yes, Alduin, zedmah. The elder brother. Gifted, grasping and troublesome, as is often the case with the firstborn," he said, his voice holding something I couldn't name. He shook his giant head. "But why? Why must you stop Alduin?"

"Because I think this is the destiny everyone was talking about, the prophecy thingy," I said, remembering Qa'ren had said about the dragonborn saving the people of skyrim.

"True," he agreed after a beat. "But qastiid-Prophecy-tells what may be, not what should be," Paarthurnax said softly, almost as if speaking to a child, but not in a condescending way. "Qastiid sahlo aak. Just because you can do a thing, does not always mean you should." He let out a humming chuckle. "Do you have no better reason for acting than destiny? Are you nothing more than a plaything of dez . . . fate?"

I sat down, leaning my back against the wall, looking up at him while my hands curled together in my lap. "I have no other reason to be here, Paarthurnax. I'm stuck, trapped without a way home. I don't even remember home now. What other reason do I have? I might as well follow this destiny, be useful or something, right?" My voice was small in comparison to his, but no less sure.

He fell silent, nothing but the low, rumbling breaths leaving him. After a long moment of studying me, he spoke again. "If you can see your destiny clearly, then your sight is clearer than mine." He lowered his head until we were level. "Dahmaan- remember, Alduin also follows his destiny, as he sees it. But, I bow before your certainty. In a way, I envy you. The curse of much knowledge is often indecision. But you have indulged my weakness for speech for too long. Krosis. Now I will answer your questions."

"Thank you, Paarthurnax," I said softly. A shudder tore through me and my teeth chattered. _I've been up here too long. Hypothermia is setting in._

He bowed his head a little, lying it across the ground in front of me, curling his wings up as his body left the rock to lie down, sheltering me in his wings. The wind was cut up and the air instantly warmed. I curled against his scaled belly as he rolled to his side, seeming to understand that if I didn't get warm, I'd die. I didn't mind that his scales were hard and hurt me, I needed warmth of the fire in his belly.

"Do you know why I live here, at the peak of Monahven, what you call the throat of the world?" he asked once I'd stopped shivering too hard to hear him. His voice was lower, softer, almost as close to a whisper as a dragon could get.

I shook my head. "I'd not thought about it," I admitted. "I guess cause you're a dragon?"

He let out a soft chuckle. "This is the most sacred mountain in Skyrim. Zok revak strunmah. The great mountain of the world. Here, the ancient tongues, the first mortal masters of the voice brought Alduin to battle and defeated him." He rumbled a growl, not angry but contemplative I thought.

"Using this thu'um you keep telling me about?" I asked, bringing my legs up to my chest as I listened.

He hummed again. "Yes and no. Viik nuz ni kron. Alduin was not truly defeated either. If he was, you would not be here today, seeking to defeat him. The nords of those days use a dragonrend shout to cripple Alduin. But it was not enough. Ok mulaag unslaad. It was the kel- the elder scroll. They used it to . . . cast him adrift on the currents of time."

I frowned, thinking about the implications to that. "Are you saying the ancient nords cast him forwards in time?" I asked, trying to understand. _Does that mean it was destiny that I came now, just as he returned? Or is it merely coincidence? Maybe me turning up brought him here . . .. This is confusing._

Paarthurnax shifted against me, tightening his wings around me and his head. "Not intentionally. Some hoped he would be gone forever, forever lost . . . meyye. I knew better. Tiid bo amativ. Time flows ever onwards. One day he would surface, which is why I have lived here. For thousands of mortal years I have waited. I knew he would emerge, but not . . . when."

I felt sorry for him, alone on the top of this mountain, waiting for an ancient enemy, one of his own kind to return to start his evil again. I put my hand on his nose, offering touch. He huffed a small breath of thanks, his huge eyes warming. "What is an elder scroll, Paarthurnax?" I asked, absently rubbing his scaled nose.

"Hm, how to explain it in your tongue?" He let out a sigh. "The dov have words for such things that the joorre do not. It is . . . an artifact, from outside time. It does not exist, but has always existed. Rah wahlaan. They are . . . hmm . . . fragments of creation. The Kelle . . . elder scrolls, as you name them, have often been used for prophecy. Yes, your prophecy comes from an elder scroll. But this is only a small part of their power. Zofaas suleyk." Paarthurnax almost nuzzled my hand as he finished speaking, letting my nails scratch his scales.

I tapped my chin with my other hand. "So, how does this help me? I mean, I've got to find one, but . . . where?" I asked, my voice low now the wind had been calmed by the sheer size if him.

"Tiid krent. Time was . . . shattered here because of what the ancient nords did to Alduin. If you brought the Kel, the elder scroll back here to the tiid-ahraan, the time-wound . . .." he paused, thinking. "With the elder scroll that was used to break time, you may be able to . . . cast yourself back, back to the other end of that break. You could learn dragonrend by those who created it."

I leaned my cheek against his stomach. "How can a scroll be used to cast him back through time, Paarthurnax?" I asked, content to tease out every facet I could. If I was going to do this, to save Skyrim from this dragon, I needed to know everything.

"The dov are children of Akatosh. Thus we are especially . . . attuned to the flow of time. Perhaps also equally as vulnerable. I warned them against such rash actions. Even I could not foresee its consequences. Nust ni hon. They would not listen." He sounded so sad, so I continued to pet him. It must have looked odd, a tiny human petting a giant dragon, but I could tell he was sad and lonely, so I didn't really care.

"You were there?" I asked, wondering just how long ago this was, and how long he'd been alone.

He nodded his head a little, eyes sticking closed for a second. "Yes. There were a few of us that rebelled against Alduin's thur . . . his tyranny. We aided the humans in his overthrow, but they did not trust us. Ni ov. Their inner councils were kept hidden from us. I was far from here on the day of Alduin's downfall, but all dov felt the sundering of time itself." A ripple shuddered down at him, as if the memory itself was painful.

I drew in the snow absently with one finger. "What does the shout do?" I asked, looking at him.

"I cannot tell you in detail. I never heard it spoken. Kogaan. It was the first thu'um created solely by mortals. It was said to force a dragon to experience the concept of mortality. A truly vomnindoran . . . incomprehensible idea to that of an immortal dov." Again he shuddered and again I stroked his nose.

"You're the master of the greybeards, right? Do others come here? I mean, have you taught anyone else?" I asked, hoping the change of subject might stop him re-living the painful memories.

He sighed, a deep hum reverberating through his body and into me. "Hmm, I have taught the way of the word for centuries, and the thu'um since long before that. But no, dovahkiin. Others do not come here to train anymore, saraan. You are the first in over a hundred years. I meditate on the rotmulaag, the words of power. I council in their use, it is enough for me."

"You meditate the words? How?" I asked, intrigued.

Paarthurnax blinked again. "Knowing a word of power is to take the meaning into yourself. Contemplate the meaning of a rotmulaag, you will become closer to the word as it fills your inner self. Will I teach you, dovahkiin? What word calls to you for deeper understanding? There are three to master. Fus, Yol and Feim."

I thought for a moment, before deciding. "Yol, I guess.," I said, thinking about what the wizard had said for my affinity with flame.

"It is simply called fire in your tongue. It is change given form, power at its most primal. That is the true meaning of yol. Solyek. Power. You have it, as all dov do, but power is inert without action and choice. Think of this as the fire builds in your su'um, in your breath. Su'um ahrk morah. What will you burn? What will you spare?"

I thanked him with a stroke to the nose. "I have one more question. Do you know where I can find the elder scroll?" I asked, meditating on Yol while he thought of his answer. I was enjoying just being here, talking with someone that wasn't expecting me to do anything, or fight anyone, just . . . talk to me.

"Krosis. No," Paarthurnax said after a moment or two."I know little of what has passed below in the years I have lived here. You are likely better informed than I."

"Hm, maybe the greybeards will know," I mused, both to him and myself. "Maybe they have a history book or something."

He nudged me with his nose. "Trust your instincts, Dovahkiin, your blood will show you the way. When you have found it, return it here. Then . . . Kelle vomindak. Nothing is certain with such things. But, I believe the scroll's bond with the tiid-ahraan will allow you a . . . a seeing, a vision of the moment of creation. Then you will feel-know-Dragonrend, in the power of its first expression." He lifted his wings, letting in weak sunlight. "You will see then . . . wuth fadonne . . . my friends, Hakon, Gormlaith, Felldir, the first mortals I taught the thu'um-the first tongues. Leaders of the rebellion against Alduin."

He arched his neck to the sun. "They were mighty warriors, in their day. Even to attempt to defeat Alduin .. . Sahrot hunne. The nords have had many heroes since, but none greater."

I gazed up at the sorrow on his face. "I should go, I need to speak with the greybeards and find this thing," I said, standing up and stretching. "Thank you, for the company and the information," I told him, shifting and stomping my feet to get the blood flowing.

"No, dovahkiin, it is I who should thank you, for tinvak has been long since a favorite pastime of mine. Now go, before the sun sets. You have tarried with this old dov too long. Return if you wish to meditate on new words, or if you find the scroll." He nudged me with his nose one last time, huffing a soft breath over me.

"Be well, dovahkiin."

I looked back at him as I passed through the gate. "You too, Paarthurnax."


	10. Elder Scroll

By the time I'd gotten back down to High Hrothgar I shook, spent without an ounce of energy left in me. I'd had to fight more ice creatures and a wolf, using my bow, magic and shouting. Each one exhausted me, and the cold that hadn't let up at all only made things worse. Pushing the heavy door open, I nearly fell to my knees, only to be caught by one of the greybeards. Borri, I think, not that I could be sure, they all looked the same.

"Dovahkiin," he said, his hand light on my arm, keeping me from face planting. The air trembled, and I realized that his voice was the reason he didn't speak. I could feel the power in it. I bowed my head.

"Hi, Borri," I muttered, my voice weak. "Sorry, just a little tired. I've not slept or eaten in days," I explained as he let me go. He bowed, gesturing for me to follow him. I did so willingly, hoping he would take me somewhere to rest. We followed a long passage, only the sound of his robes brushing the stone floor and my boots procede us until we reached a room with a fire, tables and beds dotted around. He pointed to a table laden with food and drink, then to a bed.

"Thanks," I whispered as he bowed and left. I fell upon the food like a starved wolf, munching on bread, cheese and meat, little moans and sighs of pleasure as my stomach filled escaping me. I eyed the bed as I sipped some mead, wondering if it was safe for me to fall asleep here. I mean, just because I liked and trusted the dragon master, didn't mean I trusted the men in grey. Putting down my cup, I was about to get up and walk to the bed, when I heard robes on the floor.

"Fuck my life, what's a girl gotta do to get some sleep around here?" I growled, scowling at Arngeir as he entered. "Aw come on dude, I wanna sleep," I whined, tired and grumpy.

"I came to inquire of your visit with our master," he said, ignoring my protests. He sat at the other side of the table, watching me with dark eyes. "I trust you found out what you needed to know."

I shrugged. "You should have told me he was a dragon," I said shortly, sipping my mead. "Let's just say it wasn't a welcome surprise." I raised my brow in challenge.

He didn't even have the grace to look regretfull, he just nodded. "What do you think the nords or even the other races in this land would do if they found a dragon to still be alive?" he asked, making me frown. "They would kill him, and his knowledge will die with him, dooming us all forever."

I sighed, rolling my eyes. "Dude, you were sending me up there anyway, didn't you think I'd notice that he's a great big dragon?"

Arngeir crossed his arms.

I glared.

He shifted.

I continued to glare.

"I admit in this I was wrong," he said eventually, his voice reluctant and almost petulant.

I nodded in satisfaction. "Damn skippy you do. Now, I need to find an elder scroll to learn Dragonrend," I told him, setting my empty plate down.

"Where did you learn of this?" he asked, his voice going dark. "Did the blades teach you of this abomination?"

I blinked. "The who? Nevermind. No, your master did. He thinks Alduin is back, and I need to stop the giant lizard before he eats everyone. So, elder scroll?"

He shook his head. "No, I will give no information about this word. You are not ready!"

A rumble shook the air, three robed figures entering the room. More rumbles passed between them. It was like pig latin almost, I could kind of understand, but not enough to know what they were talking about. It gave me a headache, trying to listen, so I left them to it, just sipping my drink and humming to myself. After a while, I got bored. "Whenever you're ready boys, you wanna share with the rest of the class?" I asked, my tone dripping with sarcasm.

Arngeir sighed, the sound world-weary and annoyed. "As my brothers have pointed out, you know of it and we have to aid you so you do not walk into danger without our help. You are too important to die on this fools quest. You must head to the mages guild. An orc lives there, we think he is the only one who would know of the scroll you seek. Find him, and you may find your answers."

I nodded, thanking the others. "Okay, no rest for the wicked then. Is Abaddon still here?" I asked, worried for my horse out in the cold for so long.

Arngeir nodded his head. "He is well, fed and watered, as well as sheltered by the castle walls and a blanket. We took the liberty of filling the saddle bags with supplies. Food, potions, water, mead and a tent that is easy to pitch. You should have enough for a few days on the road at least."

"Thanks," I said, getting to my feet wearily. "I'll have to sleep in the saddle. Do you have a map?" I asked, tying my hair back and checking my bow and quiver for damage. A sheet of paper was pushed into my hands, more parchment really. Looking down at it, I mapped my rout, noting places I would like to visit on the way, like Whiterun and Riverwood. "Okay. I guess I'll see y'all later," I said, still looking at the map as I walked.

The three men bowed, but Arngeir didn't, he just inclined his head, not that I really cared, I didn't like people thinking they needed to bow to me, I was nothing special. Shrugging, I left the temptation of a bed and hurried out into the cold once more.

Abaddon whinnied in greeting, pawing the ground with his hooves when he saw me. I grinned, walking over and petting his nose. "Hey boy," I whispered, the velveteen skin under my fingers warm. "You been doing okay?" He butted my chest and I laughed. "Yeah, I'm ready to get out of here too," I said, slipping my foot into the stirrup and swinging my leg over his broad back. Shifting my weight, I settled into the saddle. I let out a low whistle, signalling for him to move, loving the fact that he was already so attuned to me.

We took off at a careful trot, making sure not to fall from the high cliff as we made our way down the winding steps. I kept my eyes out for stormcloaks and wolves, but the journey passed without drama. I was thankful really, because the past few days had been hell on me and my body was starting to show the strain. The time passed, mainly with me chatting away to Abaddon, eating dinner of fruit, bread and cheese in the saddle and watching the area around us as we crossed the bridge at the bottom of the hill and into the town.

Checking the map, I read the name. Ivarstead. A little hamlet of a town, mostly taken up by a huge mill along the river, it's huge paddle wheel powering the saw that was currently cutting through logs. Close to that was what looked like a local pub, as well as a few small thatch-roofed dwellings. Around most of the houses was little patches of farm plants, vegetables and things growing in them. From my height, I could see pretty far, considering Abaddon was about 17.3 hands, so I towered over the people walking in the streets. I ignored their looks, reading my map.

"Okay, Abaddon, we're heading north. Do we follow the road, or go as the crow flies?" I asked out loud, tracing both routs with my finger. I guessed both would take more than two days, but the direct route would take a day less than the roads in my best estimates. I clicked my tongue, slipping my map into my pocket and picking up the reins. "Let's run boy, stretch out your legs and see what you can do." I leaned low, letting him have his head, relishing his little whinny as he reared up, his hooves slamming down after a suspended moment.

Our bodies almost became one as we ran, his breaths matching mine, his muscles moving as mine did, our hearts pounding in unison as the miles flew by. My hair flew in a banner of crimson behind me as landscapes changed and morphed. It was as if the seasons changed at the very passing of woman and beast, going from leafy and warm, to cold and snowy, and then to hot and balmy as we crossed the mountains and passed Helgen. I blanched, recognizing the towers, now in ruins. I didn't stop Abaddon, and nor did he seem to want to. We just breezed by, fluid with each step, until we reached a huge, gushing river.

"I don't like the idea of crossing that, Abaddon. I don't want to risk your legs in that water," I told him patting his steaming neck. His mouth was full of froth and his chest heaved, but he still pawed the ground, eager to keep running. He danced from left to right, prancing in agitation. "Don't worry, we can still run but we need to find a bridge. We're pretty close to Riverwood," I told him, once more leaning forward, my hips and back loose and sore from riding so hard. We'd covered a days travel in a few hours, driving ourselves to the limit, pushing past them until the miles bowed to us.

Abaddon took my silent cue, diving to the left and bolting down the road, like oil over water. I loved the way he moved, a horse truly born to run, his powerful shoulders bunching and rippling, his neck extended and ears back. I kept a loose hold on the reins, not needing to guide him, trusting him as he trusted me, the sure-footed animal missing pot holes and rocks with ease.

I heard wolves somewhere in the distance, as well as the roar of a bear, but we both ignored it, flying over the ground too fast for anything to catch. We passed a trail of soldiers leading what looked to be a criminal, but I didn't stop, I didn't want to risk getting attacked again. I had a mission, a job to do and the life of one in the face of what I had to do . . . as much as it galled me to do, I knew I had to keep moving. I gently tugged the reins as we approached the town I'd seen on my map, pulling Abaddon into a slow trot, much to his disgust.

"I know buddy, but you need water and food, and I need to stock up on a few supplies," I soothed, pulling him to a stop in the center of the little one street town. I slid from his back, clutching his saddle as my legs nearly gave way, still feeling as if I was in the saddle. While I got used to being tiny again and my legs got their feeling back I looked around, noting a blacksmith, shop and pub, as well as houses and . . . chickens?

I looked down at the little creature pecking the ground near my feet, oblivious to the fact that a huge stallion was pawing the cobble right beside it. I shooed the thing away, watching as it clucked indignantly before it scampered toward the inn. Shaking my head, I tied Abbadon to a post and patted his neck, putting the feed bag from the saddle onto his head, making sure to remove the bit. Once he was settled, I walked over to the shop, pushing the door open and stepping inside.

The place was a mess, goods littering the floor, glass bottles broken all over the place and a man and woman arguing about something by the counter. Stepping over what looked like robes, I tapped on the wooden counter. "Hey, I'm looking for some supplies, are you open?" I asked the dark haired male in a red shirt.

He looked up, propping his broom against the wall. "Uh . . . yes, yes, we're open. Excuse the mess, we had a break in," he explained, waving his hand at the destruction. "What can I do for you?"

I thought about the contents of my saddlebags. "I need food for three days, things that will last. I need horse feed, and if you have one, a cloak of some kind. I'm heading north." I took out my coin purse, watching as his eyes lit up greedily.

"I can put a bag together right now," the woman said, her accent pleasing to the ear. I nodded, smiling at her. "It will be about 300 gold though," she said after a moments hesitation. I knew the goods should be less than that, but the state of the shop and the stressed look on her face stopped me from bartering.

I counted out the coin as she moved around, gathering this and that, humming as she did so. Once we'd exchanged, I waved gaily, listening to them talk about a golden claw of some kind and decided to keep my eye out. I took the bag and left the shop. Tying my supplies to Abaddon's saddle, I petted his neck softly, feeding him a whole apple.

I heard a scream.

I froze.

A roar echoed.

Power rose inside me.

A dragon landed on the roof of the blacksmith. It spread its huge wings, its mouth opening, displaying row after row of shark-like teeth. Scales rippled, huge muscles clenching as its claws dug into the top of the building it perched on. It raised its head, roaring at the sky, rage and defiance echoing as guards started firing on it. People screamed, running pell mell through the streets, trying to find shelter.

"Talos save us!"

"By the gods!"

"Someone do something!"

"Fus roh dah!" I shouted, the shout coming before I'd even thought about it. It flinched back, its green scales rippling as it reared, raining fire down towards me. I rolled just in time, heat washing over my back as I got to my feet under an overhang of the shop. I took out my bow, notching an arrow as four guards did the same. We loosed our arrows at the thing as it tried to take off. I growled as it turned its gaze on a woman cowering by her door, too scared to get out of sight.

"Mid vur shaan!" Color washed over the guards, but other than that I didn't know what the shout did, it just get right. I battled the weakness that washed over me, firing more arrows into the beast as it took off, roaring in pain and fury as blood rained down on us. Its wings were already in tatters, but it somehow managed to stay in the air, circling us and screaming its anger.

Wind buffeted us as it swept, lunging down to take a swipe at me with its huge claws. Sparks flew as it scraped the ground with its talons, his maw open, flames bathing the air. Evil malice gleamed in its eyes as it focused on me. It flew up again, circling, trying to find somewhere to land.

I dived out of cover, moving to stand beside the blacksmith who carried a huge two handed hammer. He nodded to me, tossing me a sword. I looked down at the short sword, putting my bow on my back and watching the dragon come back down. The beat landed in the centre of town, its nose and face bloody. I ran forward with the guards and the blacksmith, staying out of the way of its snapping jaws, hacking at it to keep it down. The air rang with screams, people bellowing for help, for us to kill it.

I let my magic loose, screaming as it caught me in its jaws only to drop me to the ground as one of the guards cut its neck. My stomach was bleeding pretty badly through my armor, but I didn't stop, I kept moving, dancing around its attempts to capture me again. My feet almost danced as I ducked and dived, the loud snap of jaws coming close to me spurring me on.

It wanted me.

Its mouth opened.

So did mine.

"Ven gar nos!" My cyclone rippled over the dragon, tearing into its scales as I leaped onto its head, my boots braced between two spikes. I let flames erupt from my hand, the sword coming down clumsily, hacking at it. Realizing I was more likely to remove my own leg, I threw the short sword, using both hands to roast the dragons face, bracing as it reared back. The smell of charred meat hit my nose, making me want to be sick, but I kept up the flow, burning hotter and hotter, more intense than anything I'd ever done before. It screamed again, one last bellow of defiance, swiping at me uselessly. Malice faded from its eyes as it died, its roared silenced.

I fell as it lurched forward, landing on my back and rolling to the side as it nearly crushed me under its colossal weight. I lay there, dazed and exhausted as the dragon died. Something began to happen to its body. It seemed to burn, the scales melting away until nothing but bones remained. A power similar to that the master of the greybeards had given to me flowed into my body, sending energy washing over me, sinking into my own bones.

I groaned, rolling to my feet. Looking down, I groaned again, noticing my armor was torn and bloody. Staggering I looked around, checking Abaddon was okay. He looked fine, not even phased by the appearance of a great big lizard, which is more than could be said for the townspeople, who came rushing around, knocking me and jostling for position.

I tried to slip away from the piercing eyes of the townsfolk, who watched me as if I'd grown another head .A hand caught my arm before I could make it very far, twisting me around gently to see familiar eyes meet mine.

"Pup . . .."


	11. Crazy-Ass Nord!

Blue eyes met mine, full of hurt and betrayal. "Lady Amiee," he whispered, his voice soft over the exclamations of the excited crowd around the dragon's corpse. "You left us."

I gazed up at him, my own face a mask of pain. "Have you come to take me back?" I asked, my voice just as soft and just as swollen with hurt. "Because he put too much into my shout to let me go now, didn't he?" I reached into my pocket, throwing Ulfric's letter at him. I watched, making my face dispassionate, as hard as that was, as he picked it up in his large hands. "Because that's all he saw me as, a war asset. I never meant anything to him beyond what I could do."

He read the letter, smoothing the wrinkles made from the amount of times I'd read and crushed it in anger. His face became cold. "He's been acting frantic, saying his queen is missing, sending men from our walls to find you," he said, shaking his head. "I can't believe my king would do this. Not to you, Lady Amiee, he loves you." A strange note entered his voice, something I couldn't quite put my finger on.

I shook my head. "No, he doesn't. Those 'men' he sent, yeah, they nearly killed my friend, knocked me out, threatened me, hurt me. Does this strike you as actions a man in love would take?" I asked, my voice accusing. "Because that doesn't sound like it to me." I folded my arms, glancing back as guards began to approach. "I have to go . . . please don't make me fight you, pup."

Ralof looked up from the letter, crushing it in his hand. "Lady Amiee, don't . . .. " he whispered, watching me slowly retreat from him. "I can protect you. I'm not like him, I won't betray you." He reached out his hand, his expression pleading. "Don't vanish again. I have family here, you can stay . . . please."

I shook my head, moving to until I had my horses reins. "I'm sorry pup, but I can't," I whispered, climbing into the saddle. Abaddon pranced a little, eager to get away. I restrained him with a squeeze of my thighs, looking down into pools of sorrowful blue. "I'm sorry, Ralof, but I can't trust anyone, not now. I will tell you this, because I don't want you getting hurt." I bent low in the saddle, my lips brushing his ear. "Alduin has returned, and this attack is just the first. Protect your family, protect yourself, but don't come after me. I have to stop him." I clicked my tongue, sitting up and nudging Abaddon.

We took off, a lunging gallop to carry us through the guards if they attempted to stop us. I heard him shout after me, but his words were whipped away by the rushing wind as my horse pounded past the dragon corpse, peoples heads turning at our passage. I tried to imagine how it would have looked, a crimson haired, armored woman with a bow across her back, sitting astride a huge, black Shire horse, mist billowing from his nostrils like flames from a hell demon's maw. We left the hamlet, crossing the stone bridge that forded the water and turned left.

"Lady Amiee!"

I turned, taking one last look at the blond warrior. He'd moved, water up to his knees as he tried to get me to come back. His hand was outstretched, his face blurry because of the distance, but I could picture his expression; like a puppy left behind, sad, heartbreaking eyes and all. I forced my gaze away, pretending not to feel the tears dripping down my cheeks.

_He's loyal to Ulfric. He's just going to try and take you back. Don't listen to anyone, no nord is safe._

We rounded a bend in the road, Abaddon's hooves pounding across the cobble and onto mud and grass, cutting down the incline and weaving between trees. We didn't follow the road, instead keeping to the river. I reached into the saddle bags, pulling out my cape. The black fabric felt soft under my hands, fur lined and hooded. I pulled it on, pinning it closed at the neck with the large silver broach.

The hood I pulled up, shading my face and hiding my distinctive hair. "Ulfric has spies everywhere, how I know that, I have no idea, but it makes sense for a king, I guess," I mused out loud, letting the cape settle around me, covering and blending with the rump of my horse. I didn't slow Abaddon, the animal seeming to have boundless energy, and all I needed to do was guide him. He took my guidance, but chose the best path, the quickest and smoothest way he could.

_I love this horse_, I thought, grinning as he leaped over a small stream.

Roads twisted off from the main one, leading around a huge mountain to my right, following the path of the river. At the bottom of the hill I was riding down, I could see a small building, as well as what looked to be a windmill or farm of some kind. I tilted my head, studying the landscape. All around me, I could see people working their fields, seeming to be oblivious to the fact a dragon had attacked not a mile away. _Hadn't they heard it? You'd think they'd hear something like that_ . . . .. The roads began to blur with the movement of my horse beneath me, cold wind turning more and more to warm breezes as we moved into the valley and closer to the center of Skyrim.

When Abaddon finally began to slow, a view of the valley spread out before me, showing a great walled city dominating the area beyond.

"That's Whiterun," I said to the horse, leaning back in the saddle a little as he leaped again. "Come on boy, I need arrows," I told him, clicking my tongue. We galloped again, the wind tugging my black cape behind me. In front of me, I could see a huge, pale-walled town, with a massive building in the centre. Even from where I was I could tell it was well fortified and guarded. Sentries walked the walls, their helmets flashing in the sun, the patrols timed with military precision. I studied the place, noting how the buildings staggered down from the main keep. "Interesting design," I muttered, tightening my cape around me.

Somewhere to my left, I heard roars and shouts. Tensing my shoulders, I looked over to see birds flocking away from a field in the distance and guided Abaddon towards it. I didn't see a dragon, but as we crested a hill, I caught sight of . . . _a fricking . . . giant_ . . .. I took my bow from my back, watching as a group of armored men and women hacked at the thing. Why the hell is a giant just . . . there? I mean, jebus, it's huge . . . how did it even get this close to the city, it's not exactly hard to miss . . ..

Grey, wrinkled skin, wiry beard, and long, bumpy limbs flailed in an effort to catch the smaller humans. It roared again, grunting as a green clad woman fired arrows towards its face, her speed incredible to watch. The giant swung its club, smashing it to the ground, trying to crush a dark haired male. I notched an arrow as it raised the club again. Before it could smash the male ducking out of the way, I loosed the arrow, piercing its eye with a sickening squelch.

I used just my knees to guide my horse as he jumped the small wall around the field, his powerful shoulders and chest absorbing the impact. Raising my bow in a feat I would later not believe I could have accomplished, I notched two arrows at once, firing them into the brain of the giant. Abaddon pranced in excitement, the ebony shire seeming to enjoy the sounds of battle. I circled as the warriors finished the thing off, plunging their swords into its chest as it fell to its knees.

I slowed Abaddon, pulling on the reins to control his little side steps. "Everyone okay?" I asked, looking at them all. A woman with a marked face came up to me, her hand moving to touch my horse, only to snap back when he tried to bite. "He doesn't let anyone else touch him, sorry," I said, hoping she wouldn't be offended.

"I can see that," she said, looking at me though intelligent, bright-green eyes. "Your help was much appreciated. Tell me warrior, have you thought to join the companions?" she asked, cocking a brow as I lowered my hood.

"The who?" I asked, resting my bow on my thighs. "And I'm not a warrior, just a passer by." I looked at the giant, before flicking my gaze between the men and other woman. "Anyway . . . I should . . . go." I wheeled Abaddon around, not liking the speculative looks passing between them. The last thing I needed right then was more attention.

A hand caught the bridle.

I sighed.

Abaddon snorted, his front legs stomping in agitation.

"What?" I asked, looking down at the woman as I put my hood back up. I let go of the hold of my magic, just in case.

"If you're heading to Whiterun, you should speak with Kodlak Whitemane, the master of Jorrvaskr," she said, her thick accent rolling on the last word, making it hard to understand. She let go of the bridle, stepping back. "You're a strong one, you would be a good shield-sister."

I shrugged my shoulders. "I didn't plan on stopping, sorry. Just passing through, as I said." I clicked my tongue, letting Abaddon have his head again, leaping the wall before she could stop me. He grunted as we landed, carrying me back to the road in a few quick strides of his long legs. Once his hooves hit cobbled path, we bounded off towards the city, passing more farms. I had no real interest in the dwellings to be honest, I just knew I needed to keep heading north to Winterhold; this was just a pit-stop along the way.

I slowed Abaddon as we approached a stable with other horses tucked into stalls. I could almost feel my stallion's disgust at the thought of being penned in, but I had no choice. Riding up, I slid from the saddle, taking my bow with me and walking him into the stable. Petting his nose, I took a whole apple from the bag as well as a sugar cube, laughing as his lips wrapped around both and he began to munch.

"It won't be for long, don't worry," I told him, nodding to the stable boy who came running. "Brush him down, but be careful, he bites. Don't let anyone ride him either. I won't be long, but I don't want to risk him throwing anyone, " I said, tossing him a coin. Petting my horse as he huffed, I walked away, rolling my eyes as the boy yelped and Abaddon waffled.

I passed over the drawbridge leading into the city, keeping my face impassive, as if I had every right to be walking into a city I didn't know. I looked up at the huge wooden doors with two guards posted on either side. They wore armor similar to the stormcloaks, but theirs was purple and gold. One looked up from his spear, his eyes pinning me.

"Halt. The city is closed by order of the jarl," he said, his chest puffing out, almost as if he felt his job was the most important in the city. _Why are the guards never half arsed when I need them to be_? I mused, keeping calm.

"I need to speak with the . . . jarl, I have an official reason and everything," I said, trying to sound businesslike. _Yeah, Amiee, that's real convincing. 'No sir, I'm not an assassin_!'

He looked at his partner, exchanging shrugs. "What business do you have with the Jarl, woman?" he asked, his hand drifting to his sword, even though his manner didn't change in any way. I studied him, debating just walking away and hopping the fence when no one was looking, but judging by the size of the walls I wouldn't stand a chance, and god only knew what the drop on the other side was like.

"I uh . . .." _Shit_. "I have news of Riverwood. A dragon attacked," I said after stammering for several moments, probably looking like a fish out of water. "Another attacked Helgen, I was there, saw it with my own eyes. The Jarl needs to know." I silently prayed that my 'plucked from the air' reason would be enough to gain me entry to the city. I didn't fancy heading through the mountains without any arrows for my bow. I would need potions too; this was the last city between me and Winterhold, other than Morthal, but that was really far out of my way.

The guard looked at his friend, nodding. "Take this news to the Jarl," he said, making my shoulders relax in gratitude. "But don't cause any trouble, we'll be keeping an eye on you."

My shoulders tensed again._ Oh, take the stick out of your ass, I'm not doing anything wrong . . . for once._

I stepped through the door, getting my first look at the town. To my right, I took in a forge, smithy and grindstone, as well as what I was surprised to was tended by a female blacksmith. I'd been under the impression that men ruled Skyrim, and the women were oppressed. She looked to be arguing with someone, so I hung around for a moment, keeping my cloak around me, the hood up.

In front of me, I could see some kind of market, little stalls with people calling their wares. Shops and inns, houses and people were dotted around, more structured and thought out than the other towns I'd been to. The buildings were actually kind of pretty with their carved walls and window panes and pale wood structures. I felt good vibes from the place, what ever that meant._ Great, now I'm thinking about vibes and bad juju, jebus on a dragon, I'm a frickin' hippy_. I shook my head, focusing once more on my surroundings.

To the left of the doors, I could see an inn called The Drunken Huntsman. Deciding to head inside, I glanced around as I climbed the hill. Large grassy areas were surrounded by walls, keeping the place looking well cared for and clean. The streets were mud free, unlike Riverwood or Windhelm, and the people looked prosperous, as if they didn't have a care in the world.

A couple of kids dashed past me, playing hide and seek from the looks of it. The little girls wore bright colored dresses and slippers, while the boys wore tunics and pants, with boots on their little feet. I smiled, watching them for a moment, before one of the girls was called by her mother at the market, and the game broke up. Shaking my hooded head, I pushed open the pub's door, deciding to grab a bite to eat and a mug of ale before heading to the blacksmith.

"Welcome hunter, to the Drunken Huntsman," a wood elf called from the bar. I looked at him, assessing him and his bar, noting that he had bows and arrows dotted around. "We sell the best bows and mead in all of Skyrim. Come, tell me, what do you need?"

I lowered my hood after checking the patrons, nodding my head respectfully to the leather-clad elf hidden in the corner, and the fat, well dressed man at one of the tables. "You sell arrows?" I asked, watching him nod. "How much for fifty steel arrows?"

"Two hundred gold," he said quickly, leaning his dark arms on the wood. "I have bows too. That hunting bow is worn and needs replacing. May I tempt you with an Orcish bow?" He bent pulling a slender bow made of green material out, his hands reverent as he put it down on the bar. "It's yours for three hundred coins. I'll do you the lot for four hundred and fifty, if that's acceptable."

I gestured to pick it up. "May I?" Once he nodded, I picked up the bow, running my hands over the almost veined surface, the twisting patterns smooth under my palms. I raised it, fitting it to myself and tested the string. It fit well in my hands, warming to me and becoming an extension of my body quickly. "I'll take it," I said, counting out the coin. I was running low, maybe only three hundred left. Cursing silently in my head, I tried to think how much that would get for the journey. I had supplies from Riverwood, but I didn't know if they would last. Abaddon ate three times as much as I did in one meal, so it would be a stretch. I needed potions too. "Where can I get potions?" I asked, frowning as he pushed fifty gold coins back at me.

"For your old bow," he said, raising a brow questioningly. I nodded, taking the gold and slipping it into my coinpurse. "If you want potions, head to Arcadia's Cauldron, she provides the best in Whiterun. I will suggest you avoid Belethor, however." A note of disapproval colored his jovial tone. "He would sell his grandmother if it got him a few coins."

I blinked at him. "Okay," I said, for the lack of anything better. "I'll keep that in mind." Nodding my head at him and flicking my gaze to the dark elf watching me in the corner, I pulled my black hood up and left, the fall of the cloak brushing my booted ankles. I paused at the door, looking around again.

It began to rain, heavy sheets washing over the ground, soaking the town in a deluge of ice water. "Oh fuck me, this is the last thing I need," I muttered, pulling my hood further over my face as I walked towards the potion shop. I nodded to a guard as I passed him, walking up the street as he returned my gesture with a grim nod of his head. I ducked under the overhang of the shops, getting out of the rain and pushing the door open. A overly perky voice called out to me, drowned out by the rain and wind that followed me until I slammed the door shut.

"You don't look so good, I've got a potion for that," a dark haired woman said. I assumed this was Arcadia, based on the fact her hands were full of herbs and what looked to be a toe. "I can mix you something, if you like." She put down the toe, almost fondling it.

I shuddered._ I don't think I want anything she mixes with toes and god knows what else. Creepy witch lady_. "I . . no, thanks. I'll just take five stamina potions, five of the red ones, and five magicka potions please," I said, taking out my coin purse. I didn't want to stay too long, I had to get to Winterhold. She looked a little disappointed, but I just couldn't afford, or bring myself to buy creepy potions of undetermined ingredients.

She silently counted out fifteen small vials, putting them on the counter. "Anything else I can do for you today?" she asked, trying to peer into my face. "You're . . . are you imperial?" she asked, tilting her head.

"No, I'm not," I said shortly, paying for my goods. I didn't want to answer questions about my race, not when I didn't even know what I was meant to be in this world. I wasn't sure how people would react to that. Either way, I had a job to do, and shopping was just a means to an end. "Thanks lady," I said, hurrying from the warm shop and out into the rain. I ran down the street, shivering as my armor soaked through.

"Wuld nah kest!" I shouted, zipping down the street. I staggered as I came to a stop just in front of the door. "Damn it, I didn't mean to do that!" I cursed, rubbing my head. I looked up as a guard approached. Fearing attack like last time I shouted in a town, I raised my hands. "I didn't do it!"

"I need to ask you to stop," he said in a bored tone, as if people zooming down the street and dragon shouting was a normal occurrence. Once I nodded my head enthusiastically to show I would comply, he wandered off.

"Okay, no doing that in towns," I muttered, exiting. The guard who'd questioned me watched as I walked over the drawbridge. I tucked my hands under my arms, trying to warm them as I walked, my hood fluttering in the sharp wind. I could hear Abaddon, nickering in the stable, and I smiled. My horse was as eager for the road as I was. Jumping the fence into the corral area, I nodded to the stable hand who was nursing a bandaged arm and tossed him a coin.

"Hey boy," I greeted the horse, smiling as he butted my chest, eager to go. "Yeah, yeah, we're goin',don't worry," I said, pressing my forehead to his for a second. I'd gotten so close to the creature since Hrothgar, bonded with him in a way only a true horse and master could. No, that was wrong, I wasn't his master. He bore me because he _chose_ to, and that was just the way I liked it, it was a loyalty I could put my life on, and I knew that bond would be tested in the future.

* * *

It rained.

And rained.

And then rained some more.

"I know buddy," I said to Abaddon as he shook his head to get the rain from his eyes. He hung his head as we walked, plodding through a marshy area around Whiterun. I huddled in the saddle, trying to keep dry, my cloak tight against me. "I think we're lost," I told him forlornly. "Think that's a camp or something?" I asked, looking at the glow of fire in the distance. I nudged Abaddon with my knees, guiding him towards it, both of us drooping with the weight of the downpour.

I could hardly see anything around me, everything was gray and dull, washed out by the rain. I thought about the warm fire in Ulfrics room, before shaking my head at the thought. I'd not really had the time to think about him, but now my anger had mostly cooled, I felt the loss keenly. I know he'd only been using me, but some delusional part of of my mind tried to tell me that some of it all had to have been real, that some of the affection and passion had to have meant something.

My tears mixed with the rain, the first time I'd actually wept, grieved for him. I missed his voice, his eyes, the touch of his skin against mine. He'd made love to me, passionate and gentle, as if I was made of glass . . . and then . . . he shattered my heart. I didn't understand it. I could shout yes, but so could he. I was a passible archer, but he had an army of them. I was a mage, but he had a wizard. I just couldn't . . . _This is just breaking my damn mind. How can I still love someone that betrayed every promise he made? I need to get over him . . . just move on. _

_I'm stronger than my heart._

I shook myself from the confusing thoughts, the instinct I'd grown to trust telling me something was wrong. Something disturbed the air above me making me look up.

A huge club came down.

Abaddon reared.

The ground shook.

I was thrown.

A giant bore down on me.

"Move you fool!"

* * *

"Any change?"

"No doctor." A pause. "Well, there was one thing . . .."

"Go on."

"A while ago, there was a short spike of brain activity. I only caught it because I was watching and it only lasted for a second, but her rapid eye movement along with it . . . it's like she's dreaming."

Another pause.

"You think she's dreaming?" Paper rustled. "She's so heavily sedated to control the biotics while the swelling on her brain goes down, I can't see it being a dream, maybe she experienced some outside stimulus and it triggered her. Who else beside you was in here at the time of the spike?"

"Commander Shepard, Garrus Vakarian and Grunt, doctor. They've been here a few times," came the response.

"She's a hero, even to them, especially to Commander Shepard. Keep her monitored when they next visit. This could be the key to waking her."

"Yes, Doctor."

* * *

"Wake up and help me, damn it!"

I opened my eyes, blinking as rain nearly blinded me. Rolling, I coughed up a rush of bile, before climbing to my feet and taking in the sight in front of me. To my left, a dead giant, covered in cuts and wounds made by weapons unknown, and to the right a very much alive one, just as bloody but still standing. My thoughts took a moment to come online, before I reacted. _Another fucking giant? Fuck my life!_

"Fus roh dah!" I shouted, letting my voice loose. I didn't watch as it stumbled back, I was too busy trying to see who had spoken. Abaddon galloped over to me, his chest and back covered in cuts, his eyes wild with fear. Grabbing his reins, I caught sight of the . . . woman.

Dressed in ebony armor that fitted her statuesque frame and highlighted her bright golden hair, she charged toward the giant, a huge two handed sword clutched in both of her hands. Running up a rock, she pushed off, leaping into the air, bringing her sword down in a blow that would have cleaved a man in two. The giant roared, swatting her away. She vanished from my sight as I brought my bow up, not even remembering drawing it. I notched an arrow, sighting down the shaft, feathers tickling my cheeks. Letting the string go, I ducked out of the way as it lumbered towards me, my arrow buried into its cheek.

The woman leaped onto its back as I shot over and over, switching out to magic when my arms began to ache. We fought for what felt like hours, our two combat styles working well together. Between her up close and dirty tactics, which included stabbing the giant in places no male would ever want a sword, and my magic and archery from further away, we somehow managed to bring it to a crashing death, both of us panting as it died.

I lowered my hands, taking out a magicka potion to recharge. Gulping it down, I walked to my horse, calming him with soothing words once he'd allowed me to get close. I started healing him, moving my hands over his back and flank, before checking his legs and chest, murmuring all the while. I drained myself again, but the reward of his little headbutt more than made up for it. After a moment of fussing him, I turned to face the woman, only to fall back into Abaddon's side when she punched me.

"What the fuck was that for?" I growled, cupping my jaw and wiping the blood from my lip. Her gauntleted fist came towards me again, only this time I was ready, ducking to the side. "Fucking quit it woman!"

"You stupid fool!" she snarled, strange green-gold eyes flashing. "You deserve to be dead! Who in their right mind walks into a giant camp?" She tried to attack me again, but my horse reared making her step back. "I shouldn't have risked my life for a witless . . . whatever you are." She glared at me, her hands landing on her hips. "Are you blind as well as stupid?"

I blinked as she railed at me, my own anger rising. "Listen love, you may have saved my damn life, but I won't stand here and let you punch me, then call me names. What the hell is your problem?" My voice rose over the wind, my crimson hair nearly blinding me as the wind whipped around, catching the thick locks.

Her finger stabbed into my chest as she got up close. "You are my problem. Hunters looking to kill the life around here, or soldiers looking for glory by killing a giant. You all fight for nothing but personal gain. You have no honor," she sneered. "You are like all of the men in skyrim, thinking they need to bathe themselves in blood for respect."

My mouth dropped open. "You think I was _looking_ for that to happen?" I asked, my voice high and incredulous. "You couldn't be more wrong. Look, I'm just passing through, I got lost and ended up here. I thought the fire was a camp, I was looking for directions to Winterhold." I rubbed my jaw again. "I don't care about profit, killing or anything like that, I was just . . . going to the college." I met her eyes, hoping she'd see I was telling the truth.

"You were lost?" she asked, her face skeptical, even though she broke her aggressive stance. "You fight too well for a mere traveller. Why are you going to the college and not the Imperial Legion? They could use fighters like you." She tossed her hair over her shoulder, letting out a high, piercing whistle. "I'm heading towards Solitude to join up. I can not support Ulfric when he wants nothing but war."

A huge white shire mare, similar in size to Abaddon came galloping over the crest of the hill, snorting and prancing as it came towards us. Abaddon had frozen, his nostrils flaring. "Look, my name is Amiee, and I can't join up, I have a mission to do first," I said, petting my horse as he hesitated, taking one step forward. "No, Abaddon." I held fast to his reins. "What's your name?"

She caught up the reins of the white, dragging herself into the saddle. I didn't know how to be honest, considering how much armor she wore, as well as the huge sword on her back. "My name is Amber Bronzesword," she said, trying to rein in her mare as the two horses strained to meet. "Hmmm, your horse is purebred. Would you consider breeding him to Terror?" she asked, tilting her head.

I pulled myself into Abaddon's saddle. "I don't . . . . know. I mean, I've not thought about studding him. Maybe once I've finished what I have to do," I said, rubbing the back of my neck. "Anyway, can you tell me which way to Winterhold?"

She nodded, raising her hand. "If you head that way, you'll come across a path that will lead you through the mountain pass. Hmm, if you ever find yourself in Solitude, think on what I said, about the Legion and about studding . . . Abaddon, was it?" She clicked her tongue. "Seek me out, if you have a mind to, and stay away from giants, Amiee." Raising her hand, she wheeled her protesting horse around and bolted off, leaving me confused and a little dazed.

Abaddon tried to follow the strange woman and her stunning horse, but I controlled him. "No, Abaddon. We don't want anything to do with that brand of crazy," I said, my voice distracted as I noticed a large chest. Trotting him over to it, I looked around. Both giants were dead, so I could at least take a look . . . right? Grinning, I slipped from the saddle and cracked it open, my eyes widening.

"Jebus on a dragon, that's a lot of stuff," I muttered, noting armor, weapons, gold and jewels inside. I reached in, scooping the gold into my purse, from just guessing, I estimated about five thousand coins in total. The armor was light, made of what looked like scales, similar to the hide armor I wore. Looking around again, I quickly changed, shivering as I pulled on the scaled armor, tying the knots and buckles, before slipping back into my cape. I left most of the weapons, short iron sword and the like, but took a small dagger made of ebony, and the potions lurking at the bottom.

Feeding my horse another apple, I climbed into the saddle, adjusting myself as the armor moulded to me, creaking and groaning until it settled and warmed. I nudged the horse with my heels, letting him gallop from the giant camp, looking around for Amber or anyone else that would try and stop me. When nothing happened, I let Abaddon take off towards the path while I pulled out a simple meal of bread and jerky from my pack. I nibbled my meal, sighing when the rain stopped.

The strong wind didn't abate however, tugging at me constantly, as if it wanted to rip me from the stallion's back. I hunkered down, keeping my hood around my face. The road seemed to appear out of nowhere, breaking up the monotony of green with its gray stone and small walls. The walls were so low, Abaddon didn't even need to jump, he simply stepped over them and turned towards the mountains.

I thought back to the woman, wondering why a nord would sign up with the legion, which from what I understand were about other race living and coexisting in Skyrim. Something I thought was the total opposite to what Ulfrics nords wanted-which as for Skyrim to belong only to the nords. Ulfric wanted me to fight for him, the argonian and now Amber wanted me to fight for the Legion. They made it seem like whoever I sided with would win, as if the addition of the dragonborn decided the battle. I frowned. "Do I take sides? Or do I keep out of it and focus on Alduin? It's a hard one, cause I know war is coming. I don't know how I know that, but I can feel it, almost . . . is it strange that I feel like I've been here before?" I looked down at Abaddon as if his ebony coat could provide the answers to my questions.

No such answer came, just the constant and comforting sound of hooves on cobble. "I don't get all this, Abaddon, it's like . . . the crazy dreams feel more real than any of this. I can't help but wonder who this Commander Shepard is, and who he is to me. What are biotics? Why do all these people I meet keep reminding me of people I know? When I try and think though, it hurts my head. Ugh, I hate this, it's like a puzzle in my brain, one that no matter how many times I twist it, change things and question, I never get answers to." I rubbed my temples, before looking at the sky. "We need to find somewhere to sleep. It's getting late and I don't want to risk that pass in the dark. We've got lost once already . . .." Abaddon huffed. "I know, I know, it was my fault, don't be pissy."

My thoughts, as dark as they were, lightened at the prospect of getting out of the saddle and sleeping. I shifted, listening to the creak of trees as we entered the sparse treeline around the base of the mountains. I guided Abaddon to the right, moving away from the road a little ways to set up my tent where we wouldn't be easily spotted. I couldn't risk getting caught now, not when we were within a days travel from Winterhold. Once I felt we were safe enough, I slipped from the saddle, rubbing my butt and stretching. I yawned sleepily, collecting his feedbag.

"Come on buddy, let's get you settled for the night," I told the ebony shire, pulling out a thick paddle brush I'd bought in Riverwood. I smiled as he stood patiently, happily munching as I brushed him down, stroking methodically over his coat, soothing his tired muscles, making his coat gleam. The task calmed me as much as it did him. I started to sing, my voice soft as I sang a song I didn't recognize but knew deep in my soul.

The words were odd, even as familiar as they were.

"Hope can drown lost in thunderous sound. Fear can claim what little faith remains," I sang, stroking my hand over Abaddon's neck. My voice got softer. "But I carry strength from souls now gone. They won't let me give in . . .." Tears began to fall, dripping into my hands as I dropped the brush, hopeless despair ripping into me.

I growled, forcing myself past it, enthusing each line with the power of my voice. Imbuing it with the strength of a dragonborn. "I will never surrender. We'll free the Earth and sky. Crush my heart into embers. And I will reignite . . .. I will reignite." More tears began to fall as images I couldn't understand pounded into my head.

Burning, so much burning, people dying around me, a vehicle of some kind rocking as something exploded close by. "Death will take those who fight alone. But united we can break a fate once set in stone." I took a sobbing breath, fighting for hope. "Just hold the line until the end, Cause we will give them hell . . .. I will never surrender. We'll free the Earth and sky, Crush my heart into embers, And I will reignite . . .."

I looked up at the sky, crying out for the lost, for the faces I couldn't remember, for the words I didn't know, the life that wasn't mine. "I will reignite . . .. I will reignite!" The world fell silent as I stopped, no more sound leaving me, nothing but the echoes across the mountains. Once they stopped, my mind closed, leaving me feeling hollow. I set up my tent, the task taking only a moment. My hands moved without thought or conscious direction, lashing the ropes to trees so it wouldn't blow away. Once it was up, I stared out into nothing, the song still ringing in my head.

I heard the crunch of steps on snow.

I turned.

Blue eyes met mine.

My lips parted.

"Pup," I gasped,looking into a face full of pain, determination and something I still couldn't name. "How did you find me?"

He stepped forward as I stepped back, reaching for my horse. "Don't, Lady Amiee. Please. I've been following you, trying to keep you safe, please . . .. I heard you singing . . .. I had to come to you," he breathed, closing the gap between us in three long strides, his chest brushing mine as he cupped my cheek with warm hands.

I couldn't help but turn my cold cheek into his hands, the heat like a fever against the ice around me. "Pup . . . you can't be here. It's not safe for you." I tried to pull away, but he kept me close, his hands moving to my shoulders.

"You . . .. I tried to stay away . . .. I promised myself that I'd watch and nothing more. But then I saw your tears, like diamonds on ivory and I had to come, to take and bear your pain." He gazed down at me, his handsome face gentle and full of emotions I couldn't name. "I couldn't stay away."

I took one step back, still unsure of the emotion in his eyes. "Ralof . . .."

His gentle plea whispered from him, smokey, soft and hard to resist. "Don't run."


	12. This Is Real

"Why, Ralof? I don't understand. You're Ulfric's man, his guard," I whispered, searching his eyes for answers. "Why follow me?"

He let out a ragged breath. "Isn't it obvious?" he asked, his thumb stroking my bottom lip. "I will follow you anywhere because I belong to no one but you. I love you, I have since the moment you first spoke." His lips descended, catching mine in a searing kiss that held so much longing I couldn't resist. He growled. "You're mine, Amiee. I've wanted you, _needed_ you, for so long . . .. Don't turn me away."

I slowly, almost as if not believing what he was saying, stroked my fingers over his jaw, the beard soft under my fingertips. "Ralof . . .. I . . .. I won't run," I whispered, pulling him towards me, a sense of rightness I'd never felt before taking over. I pulled his head down, wrapping my arms around his thick shoulders, kissing him deeply. His arms wrapped around my waist, pulling me against him, lifting me from the ground and into his embrace.

I held on, clinging for dear life, need building and swelling within me. Ralof bent, arching my back and lowering me through the tent opening. His strong hands kept me from falling as he lay me down, gently pressing me into the furs. His huge body seemed to crowd mine, but I felt no fear, no hesitance, only desire, acceptance and a deep sense of connection that I think I'd always felt for him. I bit his lower lip as he kissed me, his hands moving to my throat to unbuckle my cloak, letting it slide from my skin, opening to folds to look down at me.

"You are like a flame in the snow," he purred, stroking my arms, raising my hand to suck the tips of my fingers. He flicked his tongue over the pad of my thumb, moving to kneel between my thighs. "I need you so much, to claim you, make you my own. Tell me this is what you want, my flame." His deep voice hummed through me, soul-deep reverberations through my chest.

"I want you," I said, my chest heaving as I slowly began to remove the armor for him, letting him view my body without having to move. Once I lay bare, Ralof discarded his clothes, his battle scarred body rippling with each motion. "Please." I needed him too much to wait.

He shook his head, bending to kiss me, before leaving my lips wanting, running soft caresses down my neck, his hands moving to my thighs as mine found his chest. He bit me, just a little, right in the crook of my neck above my collarbone. My back arched and my nails sank into him. He growled, leaving my neck to head to my chest, butterflying kisses over my torso, avoiding my breasts.

"Ralof!" I cried, my hands moving to fist into his hair, bringing sinfully blue eyes up to mine. I raised my hips, bringing my already moist core to his shaft, teasing him and eliciting a snarl as his mouth captured my left breast, suckling the peak hard, his tongue flickering over it as his other hand took care of the right. My hands left his hair to explore his back, paying special attention to his scars, loving each one with my fingertips. I gasped and groaned as he purred, making his tongue almost vibrating against me.

He left my breasts feeling swollen and wanting more. His lips descended over my stomach, reaching my core as his eyes met mine. His tongue flicked out, catching the sensitive bud in a soft lick. Sapphire pools I could drown in darkened, his low moan making me catch my lips between my teeth. My thighs shook, hooked over his shoulders as he bent his blond head to my core, gently licking as his hands clenched around my hips, pinning in in place as I writhed.

I wanted to scream, to beg and plead with the gods, but my voice was gone, all thought banished by the torment of his wicked tongue. One of his hands came up to tease my breast as the other moved to my core, two thick fingers moving to fill me, stroking the deepest part of my body and eliciting a high keen from my ragged throat. He began to rock them inside me, curling them towards my stomach as he suckled the tiny bundle of over sensitive nerves at the peak of my womanhood.

I tried to move away, to ease the tension myself but he just growled, punishing me with a long lick and making me shatter. I came, crying out his name as my hands fisted into his hair, my hips bucking, my thighs falling open. He lapped against me, taking every drop of my pleasure before pulling away and sucking his fingers clean. He grinned, a dark, lazy half smile that made my heart flutter. His hands met my hips, flipping me onto my stomach and pulling me to my knees, my chest to the fur.

"Ralof . . .." I stammered, feeling vulnerable and exposed. I shivered as his hand moved over my back, stroking the delicate arch.

"I knew you'd be beautiful like this," he growled. "I can't be gentle, not now, not like this with you. I need to make you mine too much," he said, slamming into me in one clean thrust. He was bigger than I expected, sending a shaft of pain through me. "Relax and breath my love," he soothed, stroking my hair and moving to pull me up against his chest.

I panted as his hands found my breasts, one seeking my core and grinding against my still sensitive core, softening me in a few deft strokes. His lips decorated my neck with loving kisses as he began to groan into my ear, his soft breath against my cheek. His hips slowly began to rock, his arm banding around my torso, binding me to him. When the pain stopped, I slowly leaned forward, taking the weight of my upper body on my arms, my hands clenching the fur.

"Don't be gentle," I growled, slamming my body back, taking him to the hilt in one thrust. We both cried out, Ralof's hands bruising on my hips. We began to move, my magic flowing with the lack of control I had over my body. It coated us in a red haze, like fire but harmless. I arched as he slammed into me, over and over, filling me, marking me, making it impossible to think. It was almost cleansing, the pain Ulric had left washing away, fading as Ralof, my most faithful companion made me his.

His fist found my hair, the sweet sting adding a new facet of feeling that sent me flying, like Icarus too close to the sun, I melted, broken and remade under his hands. He followed me, as he always had, joining me in ecstasy. I let my head fall forward and my body collapse, half on my side as he joined me, his body draped over mine in a tight embrace.

"I never knew it could be like that," he whispered into my ear. "You are a goddess in my eyes, a body made for mine, a soul for mine to cleave to. I will never leave you, I swear. I will never use you, tie you down or break this vow. I am yours, your warrior against the world." He pressed kisses to the back of my neck. "Tomorrow, I will take you to Riverwood, bring you into my home, make you my wife."

I rolled, meeting his eyes. "I can't, Ralof, and I can't take you with me," I said, stroking his face. "I am to find the Elder Scroll, to fight and slay Alduin. I can't put you at risk like that, not for anything." Tears filled my eyes. "Destiny. That's what lies ahead of me. I'm the Dragonborn and I have a task that I have to do."

He frowned, stroking his hand up my back as he pulled the furs up and over us. "You think I would leave you now? That I could do that? I will follow you anywhere, even into the jaws of the world eater himself." He pressed a kiss to my lips. "From this night, I see you as my wife, and I will be beside my bride in all things, even when she thinks she must do it alone."

"But what about the war? Ulfric . . ..." It still hurt to say his name, and it felt wrong to utter it there, but the question needed to be posed. "Do you think you could walk away from that? To leave the purpose you have had for so long?" My voice was low, almost whispered as the wind fell silent outside, as if it too held its breath for the answer.

Ralof stroked my cheek. "Skyrim is my home, and I will fight for her, but I will fight beside the dragonborn, my wife." His words reassured the part of me that feared he would leave. I didn't know why, or how I had missed this with him, over the last few months, this connection. I leaned forward, closing the inches between us, kissing him deeply, letting my lips linger on his as my eyes started to feel heavy.

"I'm sleepy," I told him softly, almost purring as he stroked my back, pulling my thigh over his hip and fitting us closer together. I buried my head into his chest, nuzzling for a moment as he sighed. "What's wrong?" I asked, not opening my eyes as he held me tighter.

"I'm going to have to kill Ulfric," he said, his voice full of pain. "He swore never to let you go. I won't let him have you. I have to kill him." His chest heaved as he pulled me closer, not an inch of our bodies out of contact. "I will mourn his loss, as will most of Skyrim, but for you . . ... Every tear will be worth it."

My heart broke for him, but I said nothing. I didn't have the words. Everything I thought to say sounded weak and not enough. I stroked his back gently, letting my nails scratch softly. "Ralof . . .. You don't have to kill him. When Alduin is dead, I am joining the Legion. The war needs to stop . . .. Before it tears Skyrim apart."

He didn't answer, just held me close until we both fell asleep.

* * *

I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to block the light that was insisting on waking me up. "I don't wanna," I muttered, making Ralof shift against my back. "Go back to sleep," I whispered, not wanting to wake him yet. We'd woken several times in the night, reaching for one another, making love in so many different ways, from gentle and heartbreakingly tender, to hurried, full of dark need that had to be sated. We were both exhausted. I covered my face with the furs.

"Lady Amiee, we have to get up. Dawn has long since passed, and I don't know about you, but breaking my fast is becoming an urgent need," he growled against my neck. "Come on, love, get up." He nudged me, and yet made no attempt to move himself.

"You have to get up too, buttface," I groaned, rolling onto my back and prising my eyes open. I turned my head to look at him. I let out a soft sigh, taking in the details of his face. Sitting up reluctantly, I began to dress, pulling on my armor with weary hands. "Come on, up." I poked him, pulling on my cloak and stepping from the tent and into the sun.

I stretched, letting the sun bathe my face. Sucking in a deep breath, I walked over to Abaddon, petting his nose as he blinked at me sleepily. He waffled, a soft, adorable sound that sounded strange coming from a giant warhorse. Chuckling, I nuzzled his forehead. "Hungry, boy?" I asked, taking an apple from my saddlebags and letting him crunch it. I took his blankets off, rolling them an strapping them to the back of the saddle. Picking up the discarded brush, I tucked it away as Ralof joined me, wrapping his arms around my waist.

Ralof let out a soft whistle and I turned my head as his horse trotted over. A fifteen or sixteen hand roan, clearly pure blooded and a jumper judging by his thick shoulders. He was stockier than Abaddon, but looked like he could carry more weight, which considering Ralof's size, was a good thing.

"We can eat in the saddle," I said, moving to collapse the tent, rolling it into a small parcel which I tucked under the saddle to protect Abaddon's back from saddle rash. I climbed up, using a large rock to help the large climb. Once I was situated, I pulled my hood up, protecting myself from the chill wind. Ralof drew abreast, keeping pace as we trotted out of the trees and back to the road.

"You know the way?" he asked, looking over at me.

I shook my head. "I've been kinda winging it to be honest. I've got lost a few times, but Abaddon knows how to find a path in the dark," I explained, patting my horse. "What's your horses name?"

Ralof shrugged. "I have only had him for two days. I haven't named him yet."

"Lucifer," I suggested, thinking it an apt name for the strong horse. "Fallen angel, bearer of great burden." I didn't know how I knew that, the same way I didn't know why I'd named my horse Abaddon, or my first horse Styx.

Ralof grinned. "Lucifer it is," he said, taking out some food from one of his saddlebags. He handed me some bread and an apple, as well as some diced meat. "Horker meat. Careful, it's slightly salty, but it's full of fat for energy." He bit into his own meat, falling into a companionable silence as we broke our fast.

_I could get used to this. It's nice, not traveling alone_, I thought, biting into the meat. It was salty as he'd said, but not unpleasant once I'd gotten over the initial rubbery texture. I munched quietly, taking in our surroundings as we entered the pass between two mountains. They rose on each side of us, like silent, snow covered sentinels, as ancient as the skies above. I had a strange thought, looking up at them. I wondered what stories they could tell, if they could speak. Would they be angry? Would the war breed hatred in the hearts of the mountains, seeing the land being torn apart by the pounding of marching armies?

"Where did you go, love?" Ralof asked, bringing my gaze down to him. "You looked so sad, it hurt to see. What troubles you?" His voice was soft over the light wind, his eyes concerned.

I shrugged, leaning over the saddle to feed my apple to Abaddon as we walked. "I guess I was just thinking. Ralof, I can't ask you to join the Legion with me. It would be so wrong, tearing you away from what you love to be beside me."

He reached out over the distance between us, catching my hand. "Lady Amiee, I want to have peace. I want Skyrim to have peace again, so I can take my wife home and have children with red hair and green eyes, to watch my family grow without worrying about soldiers marching through and killing them, or you, because of what you are."

I glanced over at him, almost feeling the emotion and longing in his voice. "You think it's possible?" I asked, my voice hesitant.

Ralof swallowed, studying his hand wrapped around mine. "Ulfric will try to kill you, if you don't go back to him. He'll never rest while you roam free." He squeezed my fingers. "But I will fight to keep you. It's no hardship, not when I have a chance for a future with my wife." He looked over at me, his soft smile bringing one to my own lips.

Abaddon pranced, not liking the proximity to Lucifer. "Though, I will need to teach your horse some manners," Ralof laughed.

I giggled. "I like him this way, he's funny. So huffy and possessive. You should have seen him when he met a female, a white checkered mare. He was like a puppy," I said, smiling at the memory.

"You like horses, don't you?" my lover asked. "I can hear it in your voice. You know much about them?" He paused as his horse jumped a small boulder, the creature choosing a harder path rather than risk Abaddon's teeth.

"I guess so . . .. I've always loved them. There's something . . . noble about horses that I admire." I shrugged. "They bear us out of choice, have their own minds. People think they're are mindless beasts, but they aren't. I wonder how people see dragons. Do you see them as mindless beasts too?"

Ralof frowned, deep in thought. "The legends say, that when they shout, they're actually just having a debate. Words that do damage," he responded after a long pause. We'd both been focusing on getting our steeds down a steep and slippery incline. "Is it true, love?" he asked.

I clicked my tongue once we'd reached the bottom, praising Abaddon. "When I shout, and a dragon replies, we're communicating. The Greybeards said I'm not like other dragonborn. I know all the words, without needing word-walls or training from them. They think it means I am to finally kill Alduin. He wasn't killed last time, just sent forward in time. This is where he came out, and he's pissed about it." I shivered. "Alduin targeted me in Helgen. He knew, I think. It makes me question if he's seen more than just the past. What if he has seen the future and wants to kill me before I get strong enough to kill him?" The thought terrified me and made me shiver again.

"What if I don't win and he destroys Skyrim?"


End file.
